


Thinking With Aperture Plasmids

by WhimsicalRealist



Category: BioShock, Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-01 15:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalRealist/pseuds/WhimsicalRealist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While most may be familiar with the city of Rapture, lesser known is its sister, a scientific facility on the cutting edge. No test was too immoral or dangerous. No product too taboo or regulated by the laws of man.</p><p>It was called Rhapsody Laboratories, the birthplace of plasmids. The beginning of the end for Rapture.</p><p>Deep inside this glass and steel madhouse beneath the sea, sleeping soundly in the Relaxation Wing is a stubborn woman who will be the catalyst...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Courtesy Call

Somewhere beyond the safety of sleep, a garbled voice seemed to drag itself to life and croaked out its automated message.

"Good morning," the male announcer gurgled. "You have been in suspension for -SEVEN HUNDRED THIRTY- days. In compliance with Rhapsody Laboratories regulation, all testing candidates in the Rhapsody Science Extended Relaxation Wing must be revived periodically for a mandatory physical and mental exercise."

Groggily, the woman stood up from her bed, gazing around the room in silence after the voice's instruction. It looked much like a hotel room, though dusty and dimly lit. Despite an artificial window taking up the wall to her right imitating sunlight filtering through paper screens, she could barely make out the sound of…water? As if the room was submerged, somehow.

"You will hear a buzzer." the announcer interjected her thoughts. "When you hear the buzzer, look up at the ceiling."

From the same speakers, a jarringly loud buzz sounded and the woman turned her grey-blue eyes to the ceiling. It was as uninteresting as the rest of the room, except for what looked like a track that wound toward the closed door. The room was feeling more like it belonged in a hospital, the more she thought about it, despite the dust. How long was seven-hundred and thirty days, exactly? Before the announcer's next interruption, she concluded that it was two years.

"Good. You will hear a buzzer."

'Obviously…' she thought to herself with a displeased scowl.

"When you hear the buzzer, look down at the floor."

Again, the loud noise sounded and she looked down at her bare feet. The carpet felt stale, obviously un-vacuumed for some time. Not that it would help the dingy grey color any. She made note of her attire as well: they seemed to have her dressed in blue worker's overalls and a short-sleeved shirt of about the same color. Over her right breast was a logo of some sort…a circular design made by curved triangles…

"Good. This completes the gymnastic portion of your mandatory physical and mental wellness exercise."

'Exercise? Hardly…' she sighed, rubbing at her stiff neck as she lifted her gaze again to its normal level.

"There is a framed painting on the wall." the announcer informed her next. "Please go stand in front of it."

She managed to stagger around the end of her bed to approach the painting, finding that her legs had not quite gotten the memo that she was awake now and that they had work to do. Sure enough, a very unimaginative landscape painting greeted her on the wall, a reproduction print of some sad, long-forgotten artist's attempt at a masterpiece. Not that she could do better, of course.

"This is art. You will here a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer, stare at the art."

'But I'm already staring at the-'

The buzzer sounded and caused to her flinch slightly, but she continued staring. It was a mirror-smooth lake with a simple house on the shore, pine trees around it and far in the back was a snow-capped mountain. Ticking could be heard through the speakers and she imagined that it was giving her time to…appreciate the art?

"You should now feel mentally reinvigorated." the announcer finally claimed.

'I don't.'

"If you suspect staring at art has not provided the required intellectual sustenance, reflect briefly on this classical music."

She was met with an echoing version of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, which made her feel even less 'reinvigorated' than from staring at the painting. Because the speakers made everything sound as if spoken through water, the melody was haunting and unpleasant…she hoped it would stop soon. It did, the song interrupted by the buzzer.

"Good, now please return to your bed."

With little complaint, she crawled back into the bed, making vague note that there was a groove forming in the mattress that fit her body perfectly. Would it be another two years before she was awakened again? Just to do the same set of tests, then instructed to sleep once more? It was something she could worry about in her dreams as they welcomed her back with open arms,she was far too tired for anything else.

 

It didn't seem much time had passed since her last awakening when the garbled voice woke her. But something was different.

"Good morning. You have been in suspension for nine nine nine…nine nine ni-" the announcer tried to inform her, though now sounded even further obscured by water and glitchy. "This courtesy call is to inform you that all test subjects should immediately vacate…"

The voice faded out. With knit brows, she sat up quickly and swung her legs out from under the covers, standing to looking around in the silence following the abrupt end of the announcement. The room was now dark, only the emergency lights along the floor by the far wall providing illumination. What had he been saying? All test subjects should vacate…what was going on? She could hear what sounded like creaking pipes and somewhere far in the distance water gushing and perhaps…screaming. Even in her room she was noticing cracks that had formed in the walls and realized that the carpet was damp, feeling it squishing under her bare feet as she explored. But before she could make any sort of sense of the situation, a frantic knocking came at her door, reeling around to face it with wide eyes.

"Hello? Anyone in there?"

This new voice was clearly not a recording and that she could tell, it was a male and likely from British origin if she was hearing the accent right.

"Helloooo?" he implored again, his tone full of fret. "Are you going to open the door? At any time?"

Not wanting to be rude and, quite frankly, wanting an explanation for where she was and what was going on, she made her way over to the door and carefully turned the door's handle. He apparently heard the noise and gave a cry of triumph.

"Ha! I knew someone was alive in there."

But as she opened the door, instead of greeting another human being she stood staring at a spherical device of some sort that was attached to the ceiling-rail that seemed to also run along the hallway beyond her room. The sphere resembled an eyeball with a bright blue iris and black pupil, encased in a dinged-up grey metal case and two protruding handles on its top and bottom. Upon spotting her as well, the sphere's pupil shrank and it seemed to jump back in surprise.

"AH!" the British voice emitted from the sphere, marking 'it' as a 'he'. "Oh. My. God. You look terribl-"

Her eyes narrowed at him; she didn't need a mirror to know that she likely looked like a wreck. After all, she had been asleep for at least two years when she had last been awakened. In fairness, it was mostly just her dark brown hair that was sticking up everywhere, having long been pulled loose from her simple ponytail. Her skin was paler than it had been and bags had formed under her eyes, but she still seemed to have retained her physical fitness for the most part. While still staring the British sphere down, she pulled her hair tie out and smoothed back her fly-away hair, pulling it back into the ponytail in her best attempt at improving her appearance.

"Umm…good," he managed to correct himself with a hopeful tone, clearly not wanting to offend her. "Looking _good_ , actually. Are you okay? Are you- don't answer that. I'm absolutely sure you're fine. There's plenty of time for you to recover. Just take it slow."

The woman nodded, relaxing a bit after her initial surprise. But the momentary peace she felt was interrupted as the speakers seemed to come back to life long enough to make another announcement.

"Please prepare for emergency evacuation."

Clearly demanding answers, she looked again to the sphere who seemed to be just as startled as she was.

"Stay calm!" he implored her, gliding into the room over her head on the rail. " 'Prepare' - that's all they're saying. 'Prepare.' It's all fine. Alright? Just- let's have a seat here on your bed, yeah? Let me explain the situation."

Nodding again while he watched her, she closed the door before seating herself on the edge of the bed. As the moments passed, she was gathering more questions than she was answers…where was she? How did she get here? What was happening? Why was their a reason for an emergency evacuation…or even the preparing for one? And what was with this eyeball?

"Well, firstly, I should introduce myself," he began, gazing down at her from his rail. "I am Wheatley. And you are…I mean, I already know who you are because of the file we have, though it looks like your last was omitted. Strange, eh? So, you're Chell."

She nodded in reply, vaguely recalling having filled out an application form at some point in the past…that must be what he was referring to.

"Not much of a talker, are you? Well! That's fine, that's fine, don't need to do a lot of talking right now anyway. That could also be the slight case of serious brain damage, we'll need to have you tested for that. Most subjects do experience some cognitive deterioration after a few months in suspension and you've been under for…well, more than a few. Quite a few, really, we'll need to do a check as soon as possible. But we can worry about all that later, for now you just need to be a good listener."

Chell was staring at him with wide-eyes and a worried expression. Wheatley was quick to babble on reassuringly.

"Don't be alarmed! Although, if you do feel alarm, try to hold onto that feeling because that is the proper reaction to being told you have brain damage. I'm sure it's nothing, just…just shock. Yes, that's it. Pretty shocking to wake up to such a mess! I mean, not just the room…the room is pretty damp and the lights are off, but what I really mean is that, well- well, to be honest, the whole facility has gone to hell in a hand basket and we need to get out of here."

Wheatley sighed, gazing around the room as he spoke while Chell listened quietly, hands in her lap.

"This is Rhapsody Science Enrichment Center," he began to explain. "I don't know if you remember that, but we are on the cutting edge of science and technology in all the world. A lab hidden deep below the ocean far away from the rest of the world so we could study and test whatever we wanted without worrying about the public going 'oh, you mustn't do that, it isn't _right_!' or 'oh, it's too _dangerous_ to inject people with mantis DNA!' It was the perfect environment to further science, it was! Well, until the plasmids got out of hand, that is…"

Chell tilted her head to one side, curious. He took it as his cue to continue.

"It started here in Rhapsody, but I hear the same thing is going on over at the main city, Rapture," Wheatley spoke with a grim tone, focusing on looking at the waterlogged carpet. "Plasmids were our pride and joy and Rapture was always clamoring for more and more. New powers, stronger, better…it was crazy! What we did here was to extract unstable stem cells from this particular sea slug parasite and use them to make the body do things it normally could never do through a serum made from it we called ADAM. Levitating things, sending bolts of lightning from your fingers…it was amazing, we made people into _Gods_! Everything and anything was possible! But…turns out that playing with the human body is really dangerous and ADAM is really, really addictive. Like ice-cream. The test subjects we had started going bonkers, like really violently. Setting fire to the labs, ripping down cameras, setting the mantis-people loose. We had to shut down most of the facility just to keep things together. We'd pumped them so full of ADAM that they're hardly human anymore…we call them Splicers now. Nasty lot, but strong and they're organizing."

Chell sat in horrified silence as her mechanical companion continued. Gods and mantis-people?

"I don't know how Rapture's doing at this point, they stopped communicating with us sometime last year while they were in the middle of some sorta civil war. Can you imagine? A utopia under the sea tearing itself apart at the seams…and what we've done here is to blame. I can't say I'm happy with the results as they are now, but at the time- well, we were just doing science, after all. Agh, I'm babbling…I can tell you more about the whole thing along the way, but what we need to do is get you to out of here and up to my lab."

The sphere slid along his rail and indicated the closet.

"You should have a pair of special boots in here, though I'm not sure if there are any socks," Wheatley looked apologetic. "I know I'd hate wearing shoes without them, but luxury is not really an option at the moment I'm afraid. But, while you're on your way, I'll see what I can find. So, think of that as…incentive. No, a prize! But the boots, right…those are one of our less-deadly inventions that never found any real application over in Rapture: the long-fall boots!"

Chell had approached the closet during his spiel and retrieved a pair of tall boots with braces along the back, straps across the front and instead of having a proper heel, they had a curving, springy strip that almost resembled a crowbar where it touched the floor. She raised a brow, but slipped her legs into the boots, adjusting the straps before standing again, testing them.

"Those, I am happy to report, will actually keep you from harm," the sphere reported in a happier tone. "They may not look like much, but you could toss yourself off the edge of the Grand Canyon and not only will you land on your feet, but you'll be right as rain! We started issuing these to all our testers after we learned that while we could make plasmids for jumping really, really high, the impact coming back down wasn't so pleasant. What a mess that was, lots of broken legs…just, outright shattered bones."

She blinked up at him and he shook himself with an awkward chuckle.

"There I go, going on and on again," he swiveled around and headed for the door, Chell opening it for him and they both entered a dim hallway with many other doors that resembled hers, some ajar. "This, where we are right now, is the Relaxation Wing. We needed a lot of test subjects, but not all at once, so we kept them in a storage of sorts. Think of it like being on permanent vacation, but you spend most of that time sleeping and the rest running test courses requiring use of our latest plasmids...against mantis-people."

Chell simply nodded and followed behind him, peeking into some of the doors that were open. Those rooms seemed to be in the same state of ruin as her own, but in none of them could she spot any life. Had they already been evacuated and now it was her turn?

"Fortunately, the Splicers never reached this area of the facility," he commented, though looked around thoroughly enough. "Unfortunately, the power to the whole place is slowly starting to fail and I do not want to be trapped down here when it does. Even more unfortunately, we're gonna have to get you through the areas that the Splicers did take over in order to reach my lab. But even more unfortunate than that, there's also the trouble with the facility itself. You see, it's run by an advanced form of network involving ADAM, lots of wires, electricity…to put it simply, though, we figured out a way to channel out brainwaves through these robotic vessels and the one running this place has lost her last marble."

He turned to look at Chell, who had stopped in her tracks with a puzzled look, squinting up at him.

"Uh, you didn't think this was all of me, did you?" Wheatley blinked and then chuckled a bit. "Oh no no no, definitely no! I just plugged myself into my Remote ADAM Consciousness Control Cable and here we are. I'm actually sitting in my lab with my RA3C because, to be honest, I can't risk going to where you are myself. Ah, that's only because I'm no good fighting against those Splicers and I'm not so keen on having them tear me apart, which is one of their favorite activities. Not that I'm afraid of them, that is! I'm not, I'm not…just, I can't risk getting killed since I'm one of the last sane people in the place that can get us out of here."

Chell just nodded before looking further ahead to a heavy metallic door at the end of the hall.

"Just beyond that door is one of the main walkway rings," Wheatley explained, the pistons holding the door beginning to hiss and billow out steam as they pulled into the walls, the sound of gears grinding inside. "We're going to head to another safe area nearby. It's one of the few labs they haven't wrecked and has one particular set of plasmids we're going to need if we want to get you through the test chambers and up here to the personal labs."

She stood back as the door slowly lowered into the floor, revealing a glass corridor branching in two different directions. Chell gasped and walked past where Wheatley was to press her hands against the glass, gazing into the ocean surrounding the walkway ring. It was dark, but the facility had lighting from outside and within that allowed her to glimpse the seabed and the odd fish that swam by.

"Yeah, amazing, isn't it?" he chimed in, hovering just behind her shoulder; the railing ran the full length of the corridor as far as she could tell. "Normally I'd ask you not to smudge up the glass, but hey, the place is already a disaster. You can do whatever you want, so long as we get out of here in mostly one piece. Though, we should keep the sight-seeing to a minimum since, you know, the whole place is crawling with Splicers and I can't guarantee that the safe places will continue being, well, safe."

With a sigh, she stepped away from the glass and she nodded up at the sphere. He zipped down the corridor heading west of the Relaxation Wing, Chell walking briskly along behind him. It was a brief moment of silence between her and her new companion, which she was thankful for. She had hardly been awake more than five minutes and her head was spinning with everything he'd told her. Somehow she had come to reside in a scientific testing facility deep beneath the sea run by a crazed woman and it was now overrun with her former human test subjects that had superhuman-if not Godly-abilities...or possibly mantis DNA.

In a word, it was terrifying and she knew that things would likely get much, much worse.

Wheatley, meanwhile, reflected on his luck in finding this seemingly mute woman. A shame she couldn't talk, it had been ages since he'd last spoken to someone who wasn't out of their mind on plasmids. Well, he hadn't made much of a point in speaking with the active test subjects, it was his job to watch over the ones who were artificially asleep in the Relaxation rooms. They never really talked, except for a few who screamed profanities when they were awoken for their mandatory physical and mental exercise.

But unlike them, Chell said nothing. She only nodded and listened to him, doing what he asked without questioning or cursing or attacking him like the last five had. He might not be there physically, but the damage done to his Consciousness Core connected back to him and it was never pleasant when the test subjects assaulted him with various objects found in their rooms…especially lamps. He hated those lamps. But, as far as he was concerned, she seemed much more promising than them all, even though her file had stated that she was 'abnormally stubborn' and 'should not be tested.'

"Ah, here we are!" he exclaimed as they were coming up on another sealed door. "This is the Aperture Lab, our lastly constructed module and home to the very last plasmid we developed that never even reached Rapture. Which, is a good thing, considering what it does."

Chell gazed up at him uncertainly, but the sphere seemed both proud and excited.

"You see, 'aperture' is just another fancy word for 'portal' and that's exactly what we created! The very first plasmid to utilize both hands in its use and it would have opened up nearly infinite travel possibilities! You put one of the portals on one wall, and then the other someplace else! Step through one, out the other! No mess, no fuss, no pain! And it's this plasmid that's going to get us out of this hand basket. That, you know, is heading to hell. Hell in a hand basket…I did use that description earlier didn't I?"

She swallowed her worries and did her best to look confident as she smiled up at him with another small nod: despite it all, at least she wasn't alone in all this and while he never stopped talking, it was better than the eerie silence the facility currently offered. He was actually amusing to boot. Wheatley seemed to pause for a moment while looking down at her from his rail and far away in his lab, a slight blush bloomed on his freckled cheeks.

"W-well! Of course, back to business," he stammered, turning to the door and accessed it. "I promise that we'll both get out of here, minimal troubles, maybe a few bumpy patches here and there but in the end, mostly in one piece and on our way back to civilization. Yup."

Chell merely waited for the door to open, hoping that getting out wouldn't take too long.


	2. Aperture And Go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first plasmid is always a doozy...

With the hiss of the steam pistons and the grind of gears, the door before Chell and the mechanical shell containing Wheatley's consciousness receded into the floor and the lights of the Aperture Lab slowly flickered to life. Hesitantly, she stepped inside and looked over the sterile environment. Like her room, she could tell it had fallen to misuse and the papers scattered everywhere and overturned equipment would hint that the scientists had left in quite a hurry. Long abandoned rows of test tubes, enough of them were broken on the floor to make her thankful for the boots she wore. Wheatley slid along his track and approached what appeared to be a vending machine.

"Ah, good, here it is," he sighed in relief, looking back over toward Chell. "I was worried for a moment that they'd carried off all this stuff when the other scientists made a run for it. Guess they didn't bother, which is great for us!"

Chell wandered over, narrowing her eyes at the machine. It was cheerfully painted orange and blue in swirling patterns, the sign at its top proclaiming 'Aperture-and-Go!' with the words between two glowing ovals in the same blue and orange. The glass front showed rows of syringes that were wrapped in pairs, one of each color per. Looking first to her companion, then to the machine again, Chell reached out and pulled down on the lever on its side. It rumbled and came to life with cheerful children proclaiming it to be the travel of the future before a syringe set plopped down gently into a padded chute.

"This thing's a prototype, but the plasmid had been tested quite extensively," Wheatley informed her as she knelt down to retrieve the two syringes and unbind them from each other. "In fact, that was GLaDOS' favorite to test, if I'm being honest. And I am."

She looked up at him at the name, tilting her head.

"Oh, didn't I tell you about her? She's the one who runs this place and is in charge of all the testing. But thankfully the scientists managed to get her mostly shut down before, well, the Splicers got to them."

Chell nodded, then held the syringes up in a questioning manner.

"Er," he seemed to hesitate again and when he spoke, she could hear the frown in his voice. "Well, here's where I'm gonna have to ask quite a bit of you. It's nothing too big, no worries. But, would you kindly take those and put one in each arm? Doesn't matter which goes where, just don't put both in one arm. We tried that once just to see what did happen, you know, for science. Tore the poor sap's arm up. Like a log in a wood chipper. Just…a log filled with strawberry jam. And bones. Actually, it was more like putting an arm in a wood chipper, not really a log at all."

He cut himself off when Chell began to look horrified again.

"But that won't happen because you'll have one in each arm!" he backpedaled almost frantically, the woman sighing as she calmed again. "Though, this is the first time you'll be trying plasmids, so it's gonna be a pretty big shock to your system. Nothing to worry about, though. Should just be a sharp pinch and we'll be set!"

Quickly before she had any time to think about it and really against better judgment considering the mystery liquids in the syringes, Chell plunged the orange into her right arm and the blue into her left. At first she felt nothing, but it was only moments before pain wracked her frame starting with her arms and crawling up to her spine. The syringes fell to the floor and she staggered on her feet, vision swimming into darkness before she collapsed in a heap with a heavy thud. Wheatley zoomed over on his track and franticly looked her over, unable to do much in his current state.

"Oh no, oh no, no no no no no!" he clamored, looking around the lab with his pupil wide while trying to come up with something to do. "I hate when they react like that! Chell? Chelley? Can I call you Chelley? I know you're not awake at the moment to answer, but I don't want to be rude! Can you please wake up, though? We can't really get started on escaping if you don't wake up…and the socks! You can't get to the socks if you're asleep on the floor! Right! I'm going to go get the socks, you…you stay there for a bit, but when I get back, you should definitely wake up. Yes. Be right back!"

 

The sphere shut down, two metal eyelids closing over the bright blue display. Some distance from the Aperture Lab, the real Wheatley opened his gunmetal blue eyes and promptly hid his face in his hands. His elbows rested on his knees and he groaned, head laying forward with an intricate cord jutting out of the base of his neck and wound down to an intricate device behind his chair.

What a mess…he had hoped this test subject wouldn't be as prone to the initial shock of her first plasmid injection, but each case was different. Some could pop in the ADAM that would let them throw fireballs and not even bat an eye, others blacked out and wouldn't come to for hours.

Thin fingers ran up through his burnt orange hair with knitted brows before adjusting his square-rimmed glasses and stood up, careful not to step on the cord connected to his neck: he knew first hand that ripping it out suddenly like that would leave him writhing around on the floor bawling like a child. And while such a sight often amused his former co-workers ('And where were they now, hm? Dead, that's where. Shows them to make fun of me.'), he couldn't afford such a distraction right now. Chell would likely be out cold for a bit, but he didn't want to abandon her too long. Just long enough to find some socks. Really, he just wanted a distraction from this current situation…and his guilt for having falsely assured the poor woman that she would hardly feel a thing.

"I was just trying to comfort her," he reasoned with himself aloud, stepping out of his lab area and into a small former supply closet that he had re-purposed as his living quarters. Not like he could get to his original place up in the Residential Sphere. "And if I had been honest, she may not have done it. But I think she wants to get out of here as much as I do, so it's best for m- us that she went through with it."

Wheatley pulled a box from under his cot and began digging through its contents: extra clothes and a few office supplies. After emptying most of it, he finally found what he was looking for and held up a pair of clean black socks.

"Ah, good, the last pair but I can get as many as I want when we're out of here," he smiled and tucked them into his pocket before returning to his chair.

With a quick check of his barricaded door, making certain it was well-reinforced, he closed his eyes and with a slight jolt shoved his consciousness back into the Core deeper in the facility.

 

In the darkness, Chell eventually became aware of numbers…of counting…the voice sounded familiar, but not her own. It was male, with an accent…it took her a few minutes to recall that it had to be her new companion, Wheatley. She couldn't yet move her body, feeling like someone had slugged her right in her lower back before putting her head in a vice. Her stomach felt sour and she had a coppery taste in her mouth, her arms almost unbearably warm as if she'd sunburned them badly. Just a sharp pinch, huh?

"Four hundred and seven, four hundred and eight," the sphere counted the floor tiles dully. "How did they keep track of how many tiles they'd need for this whole place, anyway? Four hundred and…was it nine? Yeah, nine. Four hundred and ten…"

Finally regaining her awareness and control of her limbs, Chell stirred slightly. Wheatley spun around to face her with a cheerful outburst of surprise.

"Oh, fantastic! You're coming around!" he babbled, moving as close as he could on the rail. "I was worried it would be a few hours yet, but here we are only one hour past! Did the plasmid take? Wait, no, are you okay? I should have asked that first. Yes, you're okay, aren't you?"

Chell managed to roll onto her back and glared up at him with a mixture of dulling pain and exasperation written into her expression, causing the Core to flinch back a bit.

"Ah, well, you're alive," he bumbled, looking as guilty as a mechanical sphere could. "So there's that, right? Silver lining. I, uh, I know I said it would just be a little pinch but I was worried you wouldn't go through with it if I told you four out of five test subjects black out the first time they use a plasmid and, well, this one is a double-doser."

She sighed and lifted her arms up to look at them, brows knitting as she did. Each arm was aglow with what looked like raised spider webs of blue and orange respectably, her nails now a pitch black. Turning them over to observe her palms, she found a black circle in each that connected to the webs. Pushing herself up onto her feet, she gave a nod to Wheatley as her expression became determined once again.

"Now, these portals do have some limits," he explained, piloting himself over to a cleared wall of the lab that had two white panels. "These panels are painted with a special white paint that's made from Moon rock. That's the only thing we could find that they would work on. Great for conductivity, but super poisonous so, you know, try to hang on to any urges you might get to lick the walls."

She raised a brow at him as if the notion was completely idiotic, but stepped over to the white panels.

"What you're gonna want to do is point your right hand at this one on the right and make a gesture like you're throwing a ball," Wheatley instructed, waiting for her to give it a try.

Chell closed her right hand and noticed that the orange webs began to pulse. She aimed at the right panel and pretended she was tossing a baseball over-handed at it, gasping in surprise as a ball of orange light did fly from her hand and formed a swirling oval on the panel. Wheatley emitted a sound clip of clapping and nodded.

"Good, good! Your aim is pretty spot on, too," he complimented. "Now, do the same thing with the other hand toward that left panel."

Repeating the process with blue webbed hand, she tossed a ball of light at the left panel. But when it impacted and formed into an oval, it showed her a view of the lab behind her…and in the orange panel, she could see from the corner of her eye, was herself looking in that direction. It was like a mirror of sorts but as she stepped forward and cautiously reached toward the blue portal, her hand touched nothing and came out of the orange portal. Her eyes went wide and she looked up to Wheatley with an amazed expression.

"That's all there is to it!" he proclaimed, pride in his tone. "We're gonna come across a lot more of these panels along the way, but we can use them to get you through the wrecked testing chambers and up here to the Olympus Labs. Hopefully this will be the only plasmid you'll need to get m- us out of here, I'd rather you not end up like all the other Splicers lurking around."

Chell nodded and looked to him expectantly, clearly waiting further instruction. It was certainly a leap of faith to put her fate in the unseen hands of a man she couldn't even see, but it was her best option at this time.

"Alright, I've done a quick looky-loo to see what areas are safe at this point and, well, none of them are beyond this lab and the Relaxation Wing, I'm afraid. But I'll take us on the safest path I can to minimize you having to deal with the Splicers. Er, not a guarantee you won't have to fight some of them, though, so…let's find you something to beat them senseless with. There's gotta be something lying around here, just…just start looking, I'll let you know if I find anything."

With the Core zipping around overhead on his rail, Chell began opening drawers in desks and sifting through trash bins. While she did find a few bars of a candy she determined to be called Pep Bars, anything usable as a weapon remained elusive. Shoving the bars into one of her pockets, she stood and brushed herself off, looking over to the corner where Wheatley was searching.

"Oh, here, here," he indicated a cabinet below one of the sinks. "There should be a wrench or something down there. Hopefully. The pipes always did require adjusting, but I hope the scientists didn't carry them off when they were making to escape."

Chell pondered briefly on the fact that while it seemed most of the other scientists had tried to make a break for it, Wheatley had remained in Rhapsody. Shrugging it off for the moment, she crossed the lab and knelt down to open up the cabinet, giving a pleased smile when she retrieved a slightly rusted, twelve-inch pipe wrench.

"Brilliant!" Wheatley proclaimed as Chell tested the heft of her new weapon. "I mean, it may not look like much, but one solid whack in the head should do the trick if they give you any problems. Always better to avoid conflict, if possible, but even better to be prepared for any imminent brainings needed."

Though the Splicers were mad, murderous, and hardly human according to her companion, Chell still felt unsettled knowing that in order for them to survive long enough to escape, she would have to spill blood in quite a brutal manner. The sound of the door mechanisms activating roused her from her thoughts and she strode over to join Wheatley who was mid-ramble about the Splicers.

 

"-and while the thuggish ones run around with bits of pipe or whatever they could get their hands on to swing at you, they're wicked quick and you do not want to get yourself surrounded by them. Not too many of the leatherheads since the facility only had a limited armed force, but all the same, keep and eye out for any of them running lose with firearms. What else…oh! God help y- us if we run into those Houdini freaks…they were a group we tested the original teleportation plasmid on sometime after they'd been exposed to fire and ice. Also, I think some of the other Splicers may be loose in the catwalk systems behind the testing areas, crawling around on the pipes and wires like damn spiders with sharp hooks. So, you know…just look everywhere, all at once, as often as, uh, possible."

As the door retracted into the floor and the lights began to shut off behind her, Chell could feel dread settling itself comfortably in her stomach. How was she going to get through this unimaginable maze that was overrun with super-powered monsters keen on tearing her to shreds wielding only a pipe wrench and the ability to move through portals? She didn't think she'd ever felt so completely outmatched.  

"This way, this way!" Wheatley urged, Chell bounding along behind him. "Down this way past the Relaxation Wing is the Cave Johnson Memorial Bio-Sphere. We were dabbling in ADAM-infused plants shortly before the original head of things died. Hence the name, Cave Johnson Memorial…he was the one who found out first hand that the Moon-paint was, in fact, poisonous."

They had time to pause at the door as it worked at opening itself, Chell gripping her wrench tight in one hand. Wheatley looked down at her and cleared his throat, getting her attention.

"Now, uh, I feel I should inform you that this area is one that the Splicers sometimes visit, though not as often because it's wide-open, not too many nooks and crannies to hide in. But just so you know, you may need to put that wrench to use. You wouldn't happen to be a baseball player would you?"

Chell shook her head to indicate that she wasn't.

"Hm, shame, they have good swinging arms. I bet they could knock a Splicer's block clear off with just one-oh, there goes the door! Keep your eyes sharp! My rail only circles the outer rim of this dome so see if you can steer clear of the middle, where, well, you'd be easy picking from anything lurking around here."

Giving a solemn nod, she grit her teeth with a determined scowl as the door fell away with the hiss of pistons and the pair entered the Cave Johnson Memorial Bio-Sphere. Wheatley shuddered to a stop barely beyond the door, staring down at what looked like a crushed wooden crate with a widening pupil. Chell looked at the crate, then up to the Core with a raised brow.

"Oh bloody hell, they've found the Combustible Lemonade…"

Chell did not like the sound of that in the least.


	3. Combustible Lemonade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What exactly was Combustible Lemonade and why in the name of all things holy did it exist?

"Oh, this is bad," Wheatley whined, his forehead back in the lab breaking into a sweat. "So very, _very_ bad…I thought that we'd disposed of that stuff already!"

Chell knelt down and sifted through the wrecked crate, pulling free a sheet of paper that served as the instructions for this 'Combustible Lemonade' that had her companion so worried.

"From the Rhapsody Labs: Combustible Lemonade

Introduction: When life gives you lemons, don't just make lemonade! Make Combustible Lemonade! Our engineers have painstakingly created luscious lemons perfect for all your incendiary needs, but why stop there? We took the next step for your convenience and carefully squeezed our lemons and thus this delightfully flammable drink was born!

NOTICE: Rhapsody Labs is not responsible for any injury that occurs as a direct or indirect result of our Combustible Lemonade. USE AT YOUR OWN RISK AND THE RISK OF THOSE AROUND YOU.

Uses:

  1. Burning down structures for the purposes of demolition (or fun).
  2. Burning down your enemies ( Tip: houses make for exceptional kindling to heighten the effect of the lemonade).
  3. Starting bonfires, campfires, fireplaces, pyres, and forest fires.
  4. Fourth of July festivities ( Tip: try adding fireworks to a punch bowl of our lemonade, it's a blast!).
  5. April Fool's Day pranks ( Tip: simply pour a glass of our lemonade and present to your target!).



Instructions:

  1. Carefully uncap the bottle. Contents are under pressure. DO NOT SHAKE BEFORE OPENING. OR AFTER. DO NOT SHAKE THE LEMONADE AT ANY TIME.
  2. Carefully pour the lemonade onto the surface* you wish to set ablaze.  



* Note that the only surface that does not instantaneously combust when in contact with the lemonade is glass. This makes bottling possible and such uses as our holiday suggestions. If you are attempting to burn down a structure made entirely of glass, simply rent or purchase a wrecking ball and crane instead.

PRODUCT CONTAINS TRACE AMOUNTS OF ADAM, NAPALM AND NITROGLYCERIN."   
  
She had to skim the sheet a second time to be sure she'd read it correctly before standing, shoving it toward Wheatley with a demanding expression. He startled out of his tangent and managed to look sheepish.

"Ah, well that…that's why I'm so worried," he explained helplessly. "My boss, the guy who used to run this place, was a hot-head named Cave Johnson. And one day, while he was dying of Moon-paint poisoning, he demanded that Life couldn't give him lemons. One thing lead to another and he ordered the scientists to develop combustible lemons. So they did and we had an orchard of lemon trees, but no use for them. They ended up turning them into lemonade so they'd stop dropping off the trees and setting fire to the Bio-Sphere, hoping they could market it as a more friendly version of nitro. We were supposed to either ship that stuff to Rapture or dump it in the deep-sea trench but, ah, it doesn't look like we got around to it and…now the Splicers found it."

Chell crumpled up the instructions and tossed the ball lightly at the core with an exasperated sigh: could this facility get any more ridiculous? Wheatley flinched and babbled on with an almost apologetic tone.

"A-anyway, we'll just have to be careful not to trip over any bottle of that stuff along the way. But if we do find anyone waving around a bottle of lemonade, well…resist the urge to drink any. So don't lick the paint, no lemonade. Should be golden!"

 

Not paying much attention to him at this point, Chell stepped away from the door to take in the vast Bio-Sphere. The floor beneath her appeared to be red brick that wrapped around against the wall and crossed through the middle of the circular area, leaving four segments of artificially watered grass lawns where various types of plants were grown. Toward the north-west she could see the lemon trees, several of them having been scorched badly by their own fruit. The south-western segment seemed to yield an overgrown garden of potatoes, tomatoes, corn and beans. To the left of the lemon trees in the northern end was a field of wheat and sugar cane; the last segment, which was right before them, held a handmade lake with massive fish that Chell assumed had been encouraged by unnatural means. The beams supporting the thick glass panes of the dome were covered with thorny vines baring breathtaking, luminescent roses in every color of the rainbow. Crisscrossing overhead were numerous catwalks and pipes for the irrigation system that seemed to still be working, as the plants were all quite lively; the only real sign of neglect was the lack of pruning to keep them uniform.

Chell took a deep breath and followed Wheatley's track, heading for the hatch door she spotted in the north. Realizing that his companion was leaving without him, he whizzed after her frantically.

"H-hey, don't go off on your own!" he scolded her, earning a glare from over her shoulder. "I-you might get lost without me! And then we'd have no chance of getting out of here if we're both too busy trying to find one anoth-"

He trailed off as Chell stopped suddenly, her gaze rising to the catwalks above them and her wrench gripped so tightly that he could see her knuckles shining white under her skin. Wheatley followed her scanning with his own, wondering what had gotten her attention.

"Did you see something?" he whispered, receiving a nod. "Oh, well…is it a _bad_ something?"

Before she could make any sort of response of her own, he got his answer. Some distance he could hear the heavy thunk of steel-toed boots on the catwalk. Chell's blood ran cold as she caught a better glimpse of the figure, its features illuminated by a nearby yellow rose. It was a man-at least he had been once-with wild black hair and dressed much like she was, but his overalls were caked with filth and dried blood. His face was a grotesque parody of a normal human's: the eyes seemed far too large for their sockets and were yellowed, the iris black as pitch. His mouth was pulled into a painfully deranged grin, crooked teeth revealed above an unkempt beard as he stopped in his tracks. Chell made note that he was carrying what looked like a piece of rusted pipe railing…that was also stained with blood, though shiny red and likely freshly spilled.

"I'm not hallucinating…" he croaked darkly, taking a step toward Chell. " _I'm_ not…you are!"

With an inhuman shriek, he leaped down from the catwalk and onto the path, rushing headlong at the startled pair brandishing his pipe like a sword; Wheatley seemed to shrink back, his panels trembling. Chell debated fleeing for a moment before taking a battle stance, knowing that turning her back to the Splicer would only leave her more vulnerable. Meanwhile, the core above her looked around frantically for some other way out of the situation, not having expected to encounter one of the beastly former-humans so close to the last safe wing of the facility so soon.

Before he could offer any advice, Chell barely fended off a blow from the pipe, blocking it with her wrench and kicking the man in his chest, pushing him back a few feet as he stumbled. This only served to enrage him further and he charged once more, attempting to sweep the pipe at her legs. Unable to get away fast enough, it struck uselessly against the metal of her long-fall boot and the reverberation shook the pipe from his hands. As he fumbled to retrieve his weapon, Chell took off at a sprint, grabbing hold of a nearby ladder and ascended into the catwalks. Wheatley gave a cry of protest, his rail system restricted to the lower level of the Bio-Sphere.

"No no no no, don't go up _there_!" he implored, gazing up at her frantically. "It's not safe!"

She ignored his pleas, reaching the catwalk quickly and defiantly began kicking at the rusted metal until the ladder barely clung on. Spotting his prey getting away, the Splicer tried to clamber after her, but his weight on the compromised ladder tore it free, crashing down to the floor with a surprised growl. While he was busy trying to free himself from the tangle of metal, Chell pointed to Wheatley, then to the door in the north before taking off in that direction herself at a full sprint.

"O-oh! You want to get to the door!" he concluded, zipping along his rail toward it. "That's a good idea! Brilliant, really! We'll lock that guy in here and be on our way!"

Above in the catwalks, Cell reached another ladder that was nearest to the door, climbing down as fast as she could. Wheatley wasted no time activating the mechanisms, pistons pulling back and the gears rumbling to life. Meanwhile, the Splicer tossed the ladder off himself and was back on his feet, looking around for the pair. The tell-tale clunk of the door retracting into the floor alerted him and his gaze locked onto Chell; in his eyes, she could see such a murderous, sickening hunger that her breath caught and she froze in place.

"Come on!" Wheatley pleaded, already in the next hallway, waiting on her so he could reseal the door. "I'd rather he not join us in here!"

But fear seemed to have rooted her in place, her eyes wide as the Splicer charged her at a breakneck pace.

"Would you kindly get in here?" Wheatley tried again, his voice cracking with urgency.

This time she responded, turning on her heel and stepping through the doorway. With a sigh of relief, the core had the door sliding up again just a millisecond after she'd cleared it. Just as it clicked into place, they could hear the furious Splicer crash up against it, beating at the thick metal and screaming profanities.

"I _will_ find you!" he threatened one last time before silence crashed down upon the pair hidden from him.

 

Chell was leaning against the wall, trying desperately to catch her breath with one of her hands over her racing heart. Is that what she could expect from the other Splicers? No amount of forewarning from Wheatley could have prepared her for something like that. The body seemed normal enough, but the humanity was gone from the Splicer's eyes completely, leaving only rage and hunger…

"Ah, I should have also mentioned," Wheatley began, not looking at her, but down at her feet. "The, ah, Splicers. In addition to being aggressive, fast and strong…they're also looking to get a quick fix of ADAM. Which, thanks to that aperture plasmid, you now carry in your blood. So…well, let's not let them get that close to you again."

Chell glowered up at him, causing the core to shrink back again; her eyes cut so sharply, he was finding.

"I know, I know, I should have said something earlier, it-it just slipped my mind, that's all! My mind's so crowded with things, you know? It won't happen again, I promise."

The woman stared with a deadpan expression.

"Promise," he reassured her.

She sighed, sliding down into a seated position. Giving the door a glance, she turned her gaze down the hallway stretching out in the opposite direction. Some ways away she could see an overturned trashcan, a camera that had been torn down from the wall, and what looked like yet another crushed crate. Chell wondered if it was too late to just go back to her Relaxation room and let someone else get themselves torn to pieces trying to help this moron of a scientist escape from the facility. But the allure of freedom was too sweet and despite his shortcomings and bewildering lack of wits, she had to admit that he was growing on her.

Chell met the core's gaze and gave a nod before pointing down the hall with a questioning tilt of her head.

"Wondering what's next?" he followed her finger, shutters closing a bit in a squint. "Down this way leads to the Dining Sphere and more importantly, the Grand Testing Tower. It's kinda shaped more like a big cube but all the same, they called it a tower. That's where the test chambers are. Impressive bit of work, it can shift the chambers into any sorta order and each is directly controlled by…well, no one right now. But when GLaDOS was running things, she'd design them, construct them, and guide the test subjects through them. But ever since the Splicers knocked her offline, the Tower's been still as stone. That'll making climbing up to top all the easier! At the very tip-top of that--with short-cutting through some maintenance corridors and my lab, of course--is the Sun's Ray, the bathysphere that leads up to the surface. From there we can take one of the escape vessels and set course for land!"

Closing her eyes for a moment, Chell nodded in understanding.

"Ah, that _was_ pretty scary, huh?" he observed, a frown turning down his lips in his lab. "Here, why don't you just rest here for a few minutes and I'll wander ahead to get the Tower's power going. I'll have to divert the last energy from the Relaxation Wing, but not to worry, you were the only one left there that was, er, still alive."

She barely caught him add "I think," as he zipped down the hall on his rail, sending an implacable shiver down her spine: what had happened to everyone _else_?


	4. Slight Problem, Time For A Detour

Not wanting to leave Chell on her own for too long, Wheatley hurried down the hall as quickly as he could. What a bloody mess, why couldn't anything ever go over easily for him in this forsaken place? Barely out of her bed and Chell was already having to fend off a fairly terrifying Splicer. What could they expect once he had her crawling through the wrecked testing chambers that he knew for a fact were infested with those spider-like ones in the maintenance corridors behinds the walls? That was where things were going to get dicey for him too, but he hoped he wouldn't have to deal with it…but it did worry him. Quite a bit, actually…the scientists had told him that if his core derailed and his consciousness was still inside, he would die! What if a Splicer took a swing at him and knocked him loose? He shuddered, trying to focus on the task at hand.  
  
He tapped himself into the mechanisms that controlled the Tower, but only in order to redirect the power from the Relaxation Wing. Anything more than that…Wheatley just didn't like the feel of the place, it made his mind itch, if it were possible. Besides, it was like stepping on a grave and he--like the Splicers--had no desire to be around anything that could possibly be linked directly to GLaDOS. She might be dead, but it was possible her ghost was still around…as ridiculous as that sounded. He gave a satisfied sigh as he felt the power begin flowing into the chambers, the lights flickering to life almost begrudgingly.

  
  
Chell was startled from her near nap as a shuddering explosion reverberated through the floor beneath her. She was on her feet in an instant, looking around with knit brows. Wheatley called to her from some distance, voice echoing.  
  
"It's nothing! Nothing! Just a…just a little mechanical hiccup, that's all! The lights are turning on and one of them might have just blown out!"  
  
Shaking her head, Chell knew better. Lights burnt out, they didn't explode. And that had sounded more like a firework going off and the energy had carried to where she'd been sitting. If she had to guess, she imagined that it was that ridiculous lemonade the scientists had 'helpfully' engineered to blame.

  
  
Following the hall, she frowned to herself. While she did appreciate Wheatley's desire to keep her calm, she would appreciate it more if he were honest. Especially in matters that could mean her life or death. If that was an explosion caused by a bottle of Combustible Lemonade, that meant there was a Splicer. And one was enough if it was tossing those around, but there were likely more. Exactly how much else did her companion know that he was keeping from her? She gazed out through the glass wall into the dark sea, expression set into a determined scowl: she would get out of this place and feel sunlight on her skin again, no matter the cost. This meant that the next Splicer who made the mistake of crossing her path would not be let off as easily as the one in the Bio-Sphere. Making sure her wrench was secure in her belt loop, she found the door where Wheatley waited, looking at her in an anxious manner.  
  
"There you are," he sighed, looking between her and the door. "Well, the lights should all be on now and it's just a matter of getting to the top where the Tower links to the Olympus Labs."  
  
Chell gave a nod, pulling the wrench from her belt loop. Wheatley took this as her declaration of being ready. But he wasn't exactly sure he was.  
  
"It should be an easy climb since you have the aperture plasmid," he babbled, earning an impatient look from Chell. "See, without it we would have to clamber through the maintenance catwalks and I think I mentioned the Splicers that move around like spiders with hooks? Yes, I'm pretty sure I did, unless I didn't! In which case, um, there are likely Splicers in the catwalks that move around with hooks on the ceiling. Which is why we're going to avoid them as much as possible."  
  
Chell rapped her knuckles against the door and raised her brow at the core, clearly ready to get on with it.  
  
"Right! On our way then," he said with a nod, turning his attention to activating the door.

  
  
Unlike the other doors, this one seemed much sturdier and took longer to disengage its numerous pistons and inner workings. Chell tapped her foot impatiently, Wheatley becoming increasingly restless and therefore entirely too chatty.  
  
"So! I know this is thinking a bit ahead of things, but do you happen to know how to pilot a boat? Not a big one, mind you, one of those smaller ones with the sail. Sailboat. No? No, me either…but hey, that's okay! That's okay, we have plenty--plenty of time to learn once we get to the docks up on the surface. Maybe they come with manuals of some sort we could read…can you read, since we're on the subject? I don't really have a need to, but I can. I can. Just some of the bigger words trip me up. Like accoutrements. And bellwether. And concupiscent. And ebullient. Oh, and--"  
  
Fortunately--and Chell did give a relieved sigh--the door fell down into the floor before Wheatley could continue listing off words he didn't quite grasp throughout the dictionary, alphabetically.

  
  
"Alright! Here we go," he chimed, sliding into the chamber on his rail. "Should be easy as cake…or was it pie? I never really was sure, but both seem equally difficult to make. Is why I don't quite get the saying…I mean, if it's hard to make a cake and a pie, why would you go around saying it was easy as--oh, you know what, I think I solved it. If you were someone who made cakes and pies quite frequently…a baker, as it were…well, I bet it would be easy to make both cake and pie since that's what you do for a living."

  
Chell stepped in a bit hesitantly, not taking any moment of peace for granted…nor would she let her guard down again like she had in the Bio-Sphere: it would take no less than a winged unicorn who could pilot a sailboat to distract her from the air of danger she found herself wading into. The image brought a vague smile to her lips as she looked up at her chatterbox companion and then gazed around at the chamber.

 

It seemed to be a no-frills box, no bigger than her Relaxation room had been but with far less in it. The walls were white, though seemed to be yellowing in places and crumbling in others; it seemed Moon-rock wasn't the greatest paint of choice to withstand the trials of time. Nearby to her left was a circular panel that stood up from the floor with a smooth depression; a button, she assumed. At the other end was another round door like the one hissing back into place behind them and in the corner to the right of that was a glass tube with a metal cap a few feet from the floor. Squinting, Chell could see that there was something inside.  
  
"Oh, this one's easy, just go stand near that tube," Wheatley explained cheerfully. "But not right under it! That'd give you quite a headache when the cube falls out, if not knock you out cold completely."  
  
Raising a brow, she approached the tube cautiously. A sensor on the cap lit up as she stood beside it and the panels flipped downward, dropping a heavy-looking cube on the floor unceremoniously. It appeared to be a wooden box with bronze caps on all its points, the center of each face bearing an intricate emblem of a heart.  
  
"That is a Weighted Companion Cube," the core went on with a nod at Chell's questioning expression. "We're gonna see it quite a bit along the way, they're bloody useful in opening the doors. Just pick that up and put it on the button. Simple!"  
  
Looking from Wheatley to the cube before her, she frowned: it looked far too heavy for her to pick up easily. And when she wrapped her arms around it, she found this to be true. Barely able to lift it more than a few inches from the floor, she began an awkward crabwalk over to the button. Her companion seemed to make note of this.

  
"Hm, you know…this might be a problem," he mused, more to himself than her while she struggled with the task. "We didn't really come up with any sort of device to help with lifting things and I bet your arms just aren't ready to be lifting that much after being asleep so long. That means…oh! Oh, I have the perfect idea, but it's really up to you…gonna mean a little side-trip back out of the Tower and into the Dining Sphere. See, when we had big hits with the plasmids in Rapture, we'd have sample machines for the scientists. Kinda like desert, only with superhuman powers that eventually lead many of them to severe--if not crippling--ADAM addiction. But there's one in particular that I think would really help us along: Telekinesis! That's just a fancy word for being able to move things with your mind and in this case would let you move that cube easier than blinking your eyes!s Which are a lovely shade of blue, if you'll let me say so. Though I already did, so….well, I hope you don't mind."  
  
Chell smiled a bit in good humor and set the cube down to wipe sweat from her brows, Wheatley's cheeks flushing back in his lab. He cleared his throat and pushed on to his point.  
  
"Right, but I don't want you getting exposed to too much of this ADAM stuff, especially now that you've seen what it can do to a person. But…it would be better to get through these chambers as fast as possible and I really think Telekinesis is the way to go. Up to you, though, of course. I'll give you a moment."

  
  
Regarding the cube with a thoughtful expression, she crossed her arms over her chest and pondered the situation. While it was a great weight and she worried that if the chambers became more complicated--she imagined they would--that simply dragging the weight to a button on her own would not be effective, she also had to think about the after effects of introducing another plasmid into her system. Exactly how many was too many? Did it vary from person to person? If so, how many would it be before she became like the others? The thought disturbed her, but she'd already decided that she would do whatever it took to escape Rhapsody…even if that meant risking possibly loosing herself in the process.  
  
Resolved, she looked up to her companion and pointed to the door they'd just entered from with a nod.  
  
"Oh! So that's a 'yes' then is it?" he blinked at her, registering a second nod. "Right! We'll make a quick trip of it and get right back to getting up through the Tower!"   
  
Wheatley zipped over to the door and it began its opening process again, somehow sounding even more begrudging than the first time, likely from a year of misuse. But before it could open, Chell's blood ran cold as she could hear heavy footfalls in the hall beyond it, gazing up at the core for any sort of feedback.

  
  
"Not to worry!" he assured her, seeming genuine. "That's just one of Big Daddies out on patrol."  
  
When Chell continues to stare at him, he assumed she had no idea what that was.  
  
"Well, you see, a Big Daddy is a guard who protects the scientists and more importantly the Little Sisters. Oh and they make repairs on the facility because, well, no normal person could go out onto the ocean floor and tighten bolts and weld over any leaks."  
  
She managed to look concerned and confused all at once: this facility leaked (though that would explain her room having been partially flooded) and what on Earth was a Little Sister?  
  
"Ah, better I explain while you get a look," he added, the door beginning to descend into the floor. "Just try not to making any sudden movements that could be seen as threatening. In fact, just don't move until it's gone."

  
  
Chell nodded, her wide eyes spotting the behemoth now taking up most of the hallway before her. Standing at least three feet taller than her--while wearing tall boots--was a humanoid thing in what she could best describe as being a diving suit. The massive, caged dome over its head held glowing yellow portholes, the whole thing fastened into a thick metal carapace. But while it was heavily armored, her eyes went instantly to the terrifying weapon it bore: in place of the lower portion of its right arm it had a rusted, conical drill. Chell found herself trembling uncontrollably as it emitted a haunting sound that reminded her of…a whale.  
  
"That," Wheatley whispered from just above her. "Is a Big Daddy. Specifically, that's the Bouncer model. This one, though, doesn't seem to have a Little Sister with him. That's good for us, less to worry about for now. But see his eyes…er, well portholes, I don't know if I'd call them eyes. Anyway, see the color? Yellow means he's on the lookout for something but as long as you don't go aggravating him, we're fine. When he's with a Sister, those turn green. But if you see one with red, stay away as far as humanly possible because they're stronger than the Splicers and I know from seeing first-hand that those drills are not just for maintenance."  
  
Chell nodded, standing still as a statue as the thing lumbered past, heading for the Bio-Sphere.

  
  
"Ah, I bet he heard the ruckus from earlier and is going to investigate," the core concluded confidently. "We'll just wait till he's through that door before heading out for the Dining Sphere."  
  
The Big Daddy paused at the door before making another whale-like noise, the cue activating the door's mechanism; Chell watched it like a hawk, brows knitting.  
  
Splicers…and now these things. And what exactly were Little Sisters? The dread in her guts seemed to give a roll, gleeful at her rising distress: what else could Rhapsody hold in store that Wheatley was leaving out?


	5. Adventure!

Several long moments would pass before the Big Daddy was gone, the door resealing itself behind him. Chell heaved a relieved sigh, looking up expectantly at the core above her.  Wheatley slid along the track and began down the hall,  turning to face her.  
  
"Hey, don't look so glum!" he tried to encourage her. "Those guys are actually our friends in all this. They just look rather gruesome and intimidating, that's all. And since he just came from the Dining Sphere, I bet it's nice and quiet there, no Splicers! Won't that be good?"

  
  
Chell hoped that that was the case, the fewer of the crazed addicts she encountered the better. As they reached the door leading into the new area, however, she could feel her fledgling hope crushed. Explosions sounded one after another from somewhere within and what she guessed to be maniacal laughter. Wheatley chuckled awkwardly, shooting her an apologetic glance while the door's mechanisms activated.  
  
"Well, it was worth a shot…you, ah, might want to get that wrench of yours ready because I did not send the order to open this, someone on the other side must be trying to get out."  
  
She already had it gripped tightly in one hand with a determined scowl; Wheatley never ceased to be amazed at how easily this test subject could accept a situation and adapt herself to it. Kinda a shame she hadn't been awake during Rhapsody's heyday, she would have been amazing in the testing chambers…

  
  
With the hiss of steam, the door fell into the floor and before Wheatley could move forward, he gave a startled cry as something crashed into him, Chell's eyes widening with fear for his safety.  
  
"AGH! What was tha--?!" he blurted, his optic spinning wildly before leveling out again and focusing.  
  
On the track before him was another core that looked just as surprised.

  
  
"Man, I would _not_ go in there!" the new, slightly singed core exclaimed, fixing its green optic on Wheatley. "Someone decided to have themselves an Explosion Day celebration and whoo-hoo there's a lot of stuff on fire!"  
  
Chell blinked as Wheatley seemed to gape, puffing up a bit.

  
"What are you doing here?!"

  
  
The core blinked, Chell making note that unlike Wheatley, this one has a vertical, rectangular pupil of sorts.  
  
"What am I doing here? What are _you_ doing here? I woulda thought you'd be long gone, Wheatles."  
  
"It's Wheatley!" the blue core snapped furiously.   
  
"Whatever," the green core sighed, looking disinterested. "If anyone around here was gonna last, it's me. They didn't call me the Adventure Core for nothin'!"  
  
"That's wonderful, really…" Wheatley grumbled. "Now, could you get back in there so I can get past, we're kinda in a hurry."  
  
"Eh, 'we'? What are you talkin' about, Wallaby, you're by yourself--"

  
  
Here the so-called Adventure Core trailed off, catching sight of Chell standing just behind Wheatley. With great protest from her companion, he shoved his way closer to get a better look at her.  
  
"Oh! Hey, hiya pretty lady," he seemed to purr, making Chell feel completely uncomfortable. "The name's Rick. So, you out having yourself a little adventure?"  
  
Wheatley made an indignant noise, panels narrowed over his optic while his outer casing continued to puff outward, matching as best as the core could to the angry red splotches burning in his cheeks.

  
  
"No we are not," he snapped back at Rick. "We are trying to escape this godforsaken place!"  
  
"That so?" Rick addressed Chell, seeming to ignore the other core's presence. "Well, you got that under control? Don't mean to sound rude, but I don't think you're gonna make it far following Geekley here."  
  
"It's WHEATLEY!" her companion protested; you could hear his teeth being grit in his voice.  
  
"Look, why don't you just stick with me and I'll get you outta here faster than you can blink," the other core proposed. "Ain't gonna lie, this whole situation's lookin' pretty ugly, especially for such a beautiful woman, if you don't mind me sayin'."  
  
Chell couldn't help but cringe, feeling anger boiling off of her companion; apparently these two had history and Wheatley was definitely not a fan.

  
"I don't wanna scare you, but I am an adventurer," Rick continued, either oblivious to or ignoring Wheatley's fury. "I'm designed for danger. So let's ditch this geek and get a move on."

  
Biting her lower lip, it posed a significant choice for Chell. Wheatley, though he seemed nice and desired to be helpful, was a bit absent-minded and at times she wasn't sure she could trust what he told her or that he wasn't holding out important information. But considering that this new person--Rick--had just come from a room where the Splicers seemed to be having a party with their new explosives, he certainly didn't seem much safer to follow. There was no guarantee that he was a better guide option over Wheatley, nor that he would be more honest. Plus, she wasn't sure she liked how he talked to her…she got the impression that he didn't think she could handle herself.  
  
Wheatley, meanwhile, was gripping his knees tightly with his teeth clenched in a sharp scowl. Months of silence beside the crazed ramblings of the Splicers and the automatic recordings and Rick was the first of the other Cores he found? What bloody good luck. He'd always hated the guy, even if they had been on the same team; he spent most of his time flirting with the women and when he wasn't doing that he was telling his ridiculous stories of his trips through the Amazon or to Egypt. The idea that Chell would pick Rick over himself made him feel sick to his stomach…he wouldn't stop her, of course, but it would be a huge setback in his escape plan. Maybe if he reminded her that he was the one who woke her up and got her this far…  
  
Rick had no doubt in his mind that the pretty young woman would gladly trade guides. No one could possibly resist the offer to follow after him. Tucked into his room in a branch of the Olympus Labs, he grinned to himself. He certainly hadn't expected to find anyone left in Rhapsody who didn't look like a train wreck. Running a hand over his grizzly brown beard, he scratched at one of his sizable muttonchops as he watched her seeming to take time to think about this. How could there be any hold up? He was a world-class adventurer, traveling the globe and braving the wilds…and Geekley was just some sad little lab lackey who did more message running and coffee fetching than real science.

  
  
Finally, Chell gave Rick a polite smile and shook her head, pointing first to herself, then to Wheatley. While Rick seemed to deflate a little, Wheatley swelled with triumph.  
  
"Aha! She might not talk and could have suffered some brain damage, but she's got enough left to make the right decision!" he bragged, Chell raising a brow at the brain damage comment.   
  
"Yeah, well I may not be leadin' this little gravy train, but someone's gotta watch your back," Rick sighed, glancing at the door behind him. "Tell you what. You can lead, Geekl--er, Wheatley, I'll let the little lady take the middle, and I'll follow along. You ain't the only one who wants out of here."  
  
"Can't you just get out on your own?" Wheatley growled, certainly not wanting a tag-along.  
  
"Oh, see I'd love to," Rick explained, rolling his optic. "But when the scientists tried to make their run for it, someone must've knocked down that bookcase across from my room. Door opens outward and the damn thing's jammed tight in place. Can't budge it."  
  
"So you're trapped?" the blue-optic seemed to shine with glee. "And need my help?"  
  
"I need her help, moron," the green-optic glowered. "Don't get me wrong, I couldn't care less if you stayed down here with the crazies. But since the lady's taken pitty on you, I guess I'm stuck with you, too."  
  
"I am _not_ a moron!" Wheatley snapped, Chell pinching the top of her nose.

  
  
This was getting out of hand: if they didn't resolve this petty argument, _no one_ was escaping. Making a point of walking past them both, she rapped her knuckles against the door and looked up at them while tapping her foot impatiently.  
  
"Oh, you want to get a move on! Well why didn't you just say so?" Rick laughed, heading over to the door with Wheatley close behind. "But ain't it faster to get to the labs up through the Tower?"  
  
"Yes, we were planning on that already, but Chell needs the Telekinesis plasmid."  
  
"That so? Well, I know where a shot of it is, no problem! Last I saw, it was tucked away in the kitchens. But like I said, they've got a hold of that lemonade and most of the place is on fire. And what are we workin' with…aw, you've just got that Aperture nonsense and a wrench? Are you tryin' to get her killed?"  
  
"It's better than nothing!" Wheatley snapped, the door protesting against opening again so soon. "There's no guns left and she needs Aperture to get through the Tower in one piece!"  
  
"Alright, alright! Man…crabby today, aren't ya? Here, I'll do what I was doin' earlier, except on purpose. I'll run in there and draw their attention to the other end of the Sphere. You two go to the kitchens and find that plasmid. We'll meet in front of the Tower in a few minutes."

  
  
Chell nodded, Wheatley begrudgingly agreeing as well. The door fell into the floor and with a nod, Rick took off into the smoky, dark area before them. Swallowing thickly and taking her last breath of clean air, she followed after him, Wheatley above her on the track.   
  
"I hope they knock him down like a piñata," he grumbled, Chell giving a slightly amused smile.  
  
She hoped she'd made the right choice, but when she heard Rick in the distance yelling tauntingly and the resulting concussions of Combustible Lemonade smashing into the walls, she decided she had. There was adventure, there was recklessness, and then there was the Adventure Core. She nodded up to Wheatley and let him lead her cautiously along the wall toward the Dining Sphere's kitchens.  
  
Between his increasingly effective zings  and the loud explosions echoing off the walls, Chell could have sworn she could hear him singing…singing his own theme-song.


	6. Knowledge Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The numbered lines of dialogue correspond to translations in the end description. You may choose to read the dialogue as-is or see what it is really saying.

Stepping carefully through the cafeteria with the orchestra of explosions behind her, Chell stuck close to the wall with the rail and Wheatley above her. She didn't know how long Rick's distraction could last, but she hoped to be in and out of the kitchen quickly. A slight rumble arose in her stomach and she placed a hand over it absently; how long had it been since she'd last eaten? Or drank something for that matter…shaking her head, she concluded it had been too long because any memory of either action eluded her. When they were someplace safe, she would have one of the Pep-Bars she'd found in the lab.  
  
Wheatley paused at the entrance to kitchen, a set of swinging impact doors barely clinging to their hinges. When Chell reached him, she froze and her face shrunk into an expression of repulsion: the metal was smeared with bloody handprints and bore various bullet holes. Listening carefully, she could just barely make out a voice from within, drawing her wrench from her waist.  
  
"Maybe they're friendly, hey?" her companion offered half-heartedly, looking down to meet her eyes.

  
  
Judging by the door and the rest of the Dining Sphere, she found little hope in the notion. Quiet as she could manage, Chell pushed the doors inward, holding them wide to allow Wheatley inside before slipping in as well. The kitchens were dark, the smell of decaying food and mold strong. Covering her nose and mouth with her free hand, she squinted at the only source of light in the immediate area. To the furthest end past large refrigerators and ovens, there was what looked like a small office with a door that had long been torn from its frame. Within was a simple desk and a glowing white syringe hidden beneath several papers.  
  
"Ah! There it is!" Wheatley chirped, spotting it as well. "So, let's just go grab it and get out of this madhou-"

  
  
"C-cordless plasmid needle injector…" a monotone voice broke in, startling the pair. (1)

  
  
Beyond the desk, Chell could barely make out the silhouette of someone seated in a chair. Above that where the ceiling rail ended, she could see something stir and a blue light flickered to life: it was yet another of the consciousness cores.  
  
"Aw bloody hell," was the Brit's input, sounding nervous. "How long has that been lurking here?"  
  
Chell readied herself with the wrench, preparing for anything. But when neither the core nor the person moved, she took a step closer. Straining her ears, she could hear the core continuing to mumble.  
  
"Injector ne-ne-needle driver, injector needle gun-un-un…" (2)  
  
Nearing the office after a few more suspicious steps forward, the core stirred and its optic focused on Chell. Despite the gloom, she could tell that it was a different sort than the one Wheatley was utilizing. Its case was far less articulate and complicated, little more than a ball with a circular display.

  
  
"Pssst," Wheatley whispered, causing Chell to look up at him questioningly. "That's one of _Her_ helpers, leftover from when the Splicers shut Her down…the Knowledge Core. I didn't think any of them were left, but they're almost as crazy as She was. Which is a problem for us. We need that plasmid if you're going to make it through the test chambers and I don't know that we can just walk in there and pull a 'oh, how do you do, just out for a stroll and wondered if we could borrow a cup of Telekinesis'."  
  
Frowning, she looked back to the office and the figure within. The so-called Knowledge Core stared back at her, the figure below remained motionless. Testing its temperament, Chell took another few steps with her wrench held tightly down at her side. Knowledge's pupil shrank almost instantly and it gave a twitch.

  
  
"E-e-eightee-ee-een poin-poin-point two fi-I-I ve ounce packaged chocolate ca-a-a-ke mix!" it blurted in a furious tone.  "One can-an-an prepared co-co-coconut pecan frosting-g!?" (3)  
  
Chell faltered back a bit. What was it talking about? First it had mentioned the syringe on the desk, but now it seemed to be angrily reciting a recipe for…cake?   
  
"Must be corrupted," he observed, for once behind Chell as opposed to directly above or in front of. "The speech component sounds like a broken record…a broken, crazy-filled record with potentially murderous tendencies."

  
That did nothing for her nerves, regarding the syringe thoughtfully. She considered her options, finding soon enough that there were few: she needed Telekinesis to continue up to the Olympus Labs, Knowledge's office had a syringe of the plasmid--for all she knew the last of its kind. Chell was going to just have to grab it and run, hoping for the best. Slipping the wrench back into its belt loop, she prepared herself, keeping an eye on the core.  
  
"What are you gonna--?" Wheatley began.  
  
However, before he could finish asking the test subject what she intended to do, Knowledge's optic shut down and not a second later the chair was thrown back and the figure was mobile. Catching a glimpse in the glow of the syringe, the pair could see a thin woman clad in a tattered lab coat with graying brown hair tied back in a long braid, bangs hanging down into her eyes that glowed a sickly shade of yellow.  
  
"Splicer!" he blurted in a startled manner, his panels puffing out. "Oh, that's just brilliant!"

  
  
Chell barely had enough time to grab for her wrench before the snarling woman was charging her, having easily leaped over the desk. What worried her even more was that as she drew closer, she could see that one of Knowledge's arms seemed to be charred badly with fiery veins leading to her palm where a ball of blue-white flame was forming between her thumb and pointer finger.  
  
"Pr-preheat…preheat the oven!" Knowledge shrieked, her wild eyes locking on Chell and raised her charred hand menacingly. (4)  
  
"That's a third-level Incinerate!" Wheatley warned, fleeing backward on the rail just as Knowledge snapped her fingers. "Move! MOVE!"  
  
He wouldn't have to tell her again as she barely dove out of the way of a fireball, hiding behind one of the kitchen islands. She cautiously peered around the side, safely out of sight. Knowledge growled, narrowing her eyes now at the cowering Wheatley.

  
  
"H-hey, we don't want any trouble!" he pleaded, panels rattling a bit. "Can't you just give us that little syringe and we'll get out of your kitchen?"  
  
"Th-three-fourths cup veg-egetable oil," she managed, another ball of flame forming between her fingers. "Four-our large eggs? One-one-one semi-sweet chocolate chipssss?" (5)  
  
"Ah, I don't…" Wheatley blinked, shrinking back a bit more. "You aren't making any sense, luv."  
  
That didn't seem to be the answer Knowledge was looking for because he gave a startled outcry as a bolt of fire nearly hit him right in the optic.

  
  
"WHOA! Okay, lady, you reaaally need to stop that!" he nervously offered from several feet away from where he's just been, watching with a tiny pupil as the portion of the rail that had been hit glowed a molten red and dribbled to the floor. "You can't go throwing fireballs around when people don't understand what you're saying! That's like if I threw a chair at you because you didn't get my accent!"  
  
"Three-fou-ourths cup butter!" she snapped back at him, one of her eyes twitching. "Or margarine!?" (6)  
  
Chell had thought the argument with Rick had been bad, but not compared to this; at least Rick was coherent. At any rate, while her companion was haplessly acting as a distraction, she crawled along the floor toward the unguarded office. With one glance over her shoulder, Chell kept her eyes on Knowledge as she backed her way toward the desk.

  
  
"Look, we're kinda at an impasse," Wheatley tried, spotting Chell making for the syringe. "I-I mean! Why can't we just work this out in a civilized manner? You don't' want us here, we don't want to be here. Isn't it best for everyone involved if you just give us what we want and let us leave, preferably not on fire?"  
  
"One and…one and two-third-ds cups granula-a-ated sugar," Knowledge growled, pointing at him accusingly. "Two cups all-purpose flou-flour!" (7)

  
  
As quietly as she could, Chell shifted the papers away from the syringe,  moving out of sight behind the office's wall once she had it. It looked just like the ones she'd used for the Aperture set, the only difference the milky-white liquid that sloshed within its glass cylinder. Hoping that this time she wouldn't black out, she jabbed the needle into her left arm and pressed the plunger downward. A soft hiss escaped her lips as faint white tendrils crawled down her arm from the injection site, seeming to replace the effect of the other plasmid. Feeling light-headed but no worse for wear, she peered around the door frame to be sure her companion was still okay.

  
"Look! This argument isn't going anywhere!" he pleaded. "We're just gonna go back to what we were doing and leave you to bake that cake you've been ranting about!"  
  
"Don't forget gar--" Knowledge began, but stopped suddenly with wide eyes. (8)

  
  
Spinning around franticly, she screeched as she spotted Chell in the office.  
  
"Garnishes!" (9)  
  
"Use it use it use it!"  Wheatley babbled rapidly.

  
  
Just as Knowledge snapped her fingers to hurl a bolt of blue flame into the office, Chell ran out of the doorway with her hand thrusting forward. A white pulse erupted from her fingers and she stared in amazement as a large metal pot rose into the path of the attack, remaining airborne as a viscous, molten blob.  
  
"Brilliant!" her companion cheered. "Now, just take her out and let's get out of here!"  
  
"Fish sh-shaped candies!" Knowledge exclaimed, backing up slightly. (10)

  
  
Chell froze, holding the liquefied pot between herself and Knowledge. Take her out? Despite her determination to do whatever it took to escape, despite her knowing that the Splicers would show no mercy…  
  
"C'mon! We've got to go!"  
  
Biting her lower lip, she could see the expression change in Knowledge's face; it contorted with a primal fury, but her eyes were wide with terror. Chell's heart ached. This woman had been normal once, possibly one of the chefs that had worked in the kitchens. She had a life, had aspirations, and apparently loved to bake. But the facility…it had turned her into a ghost of her former self, hopelessly addicted to ADAM. Hurt, confused, angry…how could Chell be expected to kill someone who could still display such profound emotions?  
  
" F-f-fish shaped..!" she seemed to plead, holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender. (11)

  
  
"Would you kindly just get it over with already?!" the core pleaded desperately, seeing that Chell hadn't moved. "She's going to kill us both if you don't!"  
  
With glistening eyes, she flexed her fingers outward and flung the slag into Knowledge's horrified face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) "It's so noisy out there today..."  
> (2) "And now they're coming in to bother me, I wish they'd go away..."  
> (3) "You aren't supposed to be in here!" "What is it that you want?!"  
> (4) "Fire...I'll stop you with fire!"  
> (5) "You sound familiar," "Have we met? Do you have any news from the outside?"  
> (6) "I'm speaking normally!" "Why don't you listen to me?!"  
> (7) "You're...you're just taunting me," "You're just like the rest of these monsters!"  
> (8) "You aren't going to fool--"  
> (9) "Fool!"  
> (10) "Please don't do it!"  
> (11) "Please don't..!"


	7. Out Of The Frying Pan

Fuel for nightmares is quite often something we find in our waking hours. As her fingers spread out, time slowed itself to put every last moment into unforgettably sharp detail that she was certain would find her again in her dreams. Knowledge gave an unearthly howl and tried to raise her hands in the way of her face, hoping to block the assault. But unfortunately for all parties involved, it did very little and the fiery liquid met her flesh all the same. It splashed into her palms, around her fingers, into her eyes and splattered across her cheeks, nose and forehead. Where it landed, a sharp hiss sounded and steam rose up in tendrils.  
  
Utterly horrified, Chell was helpless but to look on as the Splicer dropped to the floor, clawing frantically at the liquid metal smeared all over her face with a blood-curdling shriek. The scent of cooking skin and the sick crackle and pop was more than the poor Chell could stand, dashing around the other who was beyond help now and made for the doors, Wheatley following after her with the light of his optic a mere dot; clearly neither had seen something so gruesome.

  
  
Screams of anguish and fury echoing in the kitchens behind them, the pair emerged once again into the main area of the Dining Sphere. Tables everywhere were overturned, shattered and many were on fire; very little remained intact. Coughing at the air steadily filling with noxious smoke, Chell squinted into the far end of the sphere where she could just make out a pinpoint of green light.  
  
"Let's just get out of here," Wheatley urged, his panels rattling a bit.  
  
Chell shot a quick glance up at him before giving a nod and took off at a sprint, keeping close to the wall.

  
  
The explosions came fewer and fewer, the Splicers seemingly running low on their liquid-based weapons. Rick was still doing his best to hold their attention, but his taunts were becoming less and less articulated.  
  
"Yeah! That's right! You couldn't hit the broad side of a…well, a broad-sided thing!"  
  
"Oh you tell 'em, Rick!" Wheatley snorted with a rueful laugh. "They teach you that one at Adventure School?!"

  
  
Unfortunately, the new voice carried, the mob turning from the green-eyed Core to glower at Chell and Wheatley through the haze. Stopping in her tracks, Chell's stomach dropped as they began to charge in her direction, brandishing their bottles of Combustible Lemonade.  
  
"Bloody hell…" her companion mumbled regrettably.

  
  
Thinking on her feet, she turned to the right and thrust out her left hand, clenching her fingers together and a powerful vortex kicked up and pulled one of the last intact cafeteria tables into the air. Holding it airborne with a determined scowl, she waited…waited…and just as they got within range, she swung her arm in a harsh arc, plowing the mob into the wall with the table which then crashed down on top of them. The collision and subsequent fall to the floor ruptured several of the bottles they carried and she had to duck behind a pillar as shredded hunks of metal and wood blasted past.  
  
Head throbbing with a headache from both the effort and the noxious fumes, Chell covered her mouth and nose with a hand and pressed on, dashing past the burning wreckage of the table and the frenzied, screaming, clawing Splicers trapped beneath it. Rick met them at the door leading back to the hall.

  
  
"Whew! Took ya long enough, gorgeous," he chuckled, tilting a bit when he saw how pale and wide-eyed she was. "Hey, you don't look so good…you feelin' alright, little lady? You look like you had a bad tangle with an alligator…"  
  
She shook her head and rapped her knuckles desperately against the door, wishing one of them would just open it and let her out before she inhaled too much more of the smoke; who knew how much damage it could do to her lungs.  
  
"Move it!" Wheatley butted in, shoving Rick out of the way so her could access the door. "You can chat when we're safe in the hallway again!"

  
  
Thankful for her companion's effort, she closed her eyes and shuddered. It wasn't just because of the smoke that she wanted to get away. In the distance, Knowledge had finally gone quiet…a sour taste filled her mouth and she felt like her stomach had turned on itself. No sooner had she stepped beyond the door before she doubled over and retched, a few tears escaping down her cheeks as her body tried to eject the repulsion that was only in her mind.   
  
Her memories were foggy, especially from before Wheatley woke her up, but she was absolutely certain she'd never killed anyone before. And if she had, it would not have been in such a brutal, heartless manner. Regardless of how desperate the situation was and the fact that the Splicers were trying to kill her, it did nothing to calm her nerves or settle her nausea…she was now a murderer, like it or not.

  
  
Biting his lower lip, Wheatley could only watch with concern as Chell leaned weakly against the wall, coughing and sniffling at the runny nose that seems to always come partnered with vomiting. Really, it broke his heart to see her have to go through this, but it was their only way out. Even if it meant shedding a little blood, bashing in a few heads…he swallowed at the lump in his throat and tried to offer some manner of comfort.  
  
"H-hey, it's gonna be okay, luv. I know…I know it seems a little rough right now. It is, there's no arguing that. But trust me, you're strong. You can get through it and get out of here. And when we get to land, hey, we can go someplace with shops. Get you a pretty dress…o-or pants, if you prefer! I'm not judging, I just assume most women like to look nice. Not that you don't! You do! Splendid, really! But the point is, we'll make a day of it when we're out."

  
  
Despite the continued sour taste in her mouth, Chell couldn't help but giving a small little smile up at him. Somehow the way he trailed off and backpedaled found a way to consistently cheer her up. He was right, though. She was strong--or she would have to pretend to be--and could survive anything that came her way.  
  
"Like she'd ever want to go on a date with you, Geekley," Rick laughed with a roll of his optic. "Just stick with me once we're outta here, I know how to treat the ladies."  
  
"I'm not asking her on a date!" he fired back, glaring as his panels shifted to echo his flushed cheeks.   
  
"Sure you aren't."  
  
"I'm not!"

  
  
Chell sighed, moving down the hallway a bit as they argued to sit down, resting her forehead against the cool glass and gazed into the endless depths beyond. It really was a crazy concept, to find oneself trapped in a science facility at the bottom of the ocean that seemed tapped right into one of the circles of Hell. She wasn't sure if she could live a normal life after what she'd already seen, what she'd already done…and there would be so much more to come. Of that she was certain.

  
  
"Ooh, who are you?"

  
  
Startled, she shot to her feet and nearly fell over backward as from seemingly nowhere a young girl had appeared at her side, looking at her curiously with luminous yellow eyes. Her skin was nearly white with touches of grey, her short hair stringy and an unhealthy shade of blonde.  
  
"You're the Angel, aren't you?" the girl offered, idly swishing the hem her tattered grey dress to and fro. "I think so…you're the only one who could be! Everyone else is dead, She said. She said that he turned their life support off and they all died."  
  
Confused, Chell couldn't move from where she stood, half-crouched in a defensive stance. The little girl tilted her head to one side and raised a dirty hand to place against Chell's cheek, the woman shivering to find the child's skin to be clammy and cold. Briefly glancing down the hall, the two Cores were too busy in their heated exchange to offer any help.  
  
"But don't tell him I told you," the girl continued, smiling toothily. "She says he's a moron and when She gets the chance, She's going to rip his heart out and feed it to the mantis-people!"  
  
The fact that she said it with a giggle sent a chill up Chell's spine.  
  
"But I better go now," she said with a pout. "Big Sister will be looking for me if I don't."

 

  
With a quick kiss to the woman's forehead, the dirty little girl skipped off down the hallway…and crawled up into a vent just in front of the doors that lead into the Tower. In the brief glimpse of her back, Chell noticed a strange, circular metal socket at the base of the girl's neck.

  
With a trembling hand, she reached up to touch the cheek the girl had touched, feeling something sticky on the skin. Upon looking at he retracted fingers, her stomach gave another turn as she saw the drying crimson now on them. She could see the hand-print in her reflection…clutching her stomach, she curled up on herself and just lay down on her side.  
  
Eventually her companions would notice her, but for now…Chell rested.


	8. The Test Chambers

After what felt like ages, Chell stirred. It was Wheatley's concerned voice that drudged her up from the depths of her dreamscape, blinking away the last of its phantoms as she looked up at him.  
  
"Oh thank god," he sighed with relief. "I'd started to worry you broke or something…"

  
  
She shook her head, standing up slowly and brushed her pants off. Looking around, she neither saw or heard Rick. Favoring her companion with a questioning glance, she recalled what had happened just before her unexpected nap and rubbed furiously at the handprint on her cheek.  
  
"Right, that guy," Wheatley grumbled with his panels shifting in their best imitation of his shrug.  "He's going up ahead of us to see if he can keep the way mostly cleared out. But really, the worst of the Splicers are the ones that hide around in the maintenance areas. All former subjects, all wielding a dangerous cocktail of plasmids, and all highly territorial psychopa---uh…I'm not helping, am I?"  
  
Chell looked exasperated and shook her head. Satisfied that the child's macabre mark was gone from her skin, she reached into her pocket and pulled out one of the Pep bars. He seemed to brighten at her resourcefulness.  
  
"You clever girl!" he complimented with a nod. "I was wondering if you weren't getting hungry since I woke you up. That should keep you going for a while, they're more filling than they look."

  
  
She hoped he was right because after peeling away the wrapper and looking at the brick-like bar, she wasn't so sure she wanted to eat it anymore. Taking a small nibble at it, she made a face and immediately wished she had some water to help choke it down with. But it was something at least. While pecking away at the bar, she made sure she had her wrench with her and headed for the door to the Tower.  
  
"Alright, here we are, let's try this again, shall we?" Wheatley asked as he approached the door as well, its inner-workings grinding to life and disengaging the various locks and pistons.  "Should be smooth sailing from hear on out if Rick lives up to his word. Which I highly doubt, so just…be ready for anything."

  
  
The door fell into the floor with a loud mechanical THUNK and Chell strode inside, more confident than she had been previously. Wrench held tight in one hand, the other  illuminated by glowing white veins of the Telekinesis  plasmid. The room had not changed and everything was as she left it. Using her newfound ability, she easily lifted the Companion Cube into the air and deposited it onto the button-recess on the floor. A cheerful 'bing-bong' sounded and the light beside the exit turned yellow, the door unlocking and falling away.  
  
"See? Easy as can be," Wheatley offered as he followed along on his rail. "Now this next chamber…"  
  
From one crumbling chamber to the next, they made their way up through the Tower. Each was more difficult than the last, especially whenever they reached one that was mostly torn apart, broken glass and scrap metal strewn everywhere. It was slow going at first as Chell learned how to switch from Telekinesis to Apertures, using them both to solve the complicated puzzles tied to unlocking the doors in their way. Wheatley would offer what advice he could, but had forgotten the solutions to many of the chambers and gave only verbal support as she got by on trial and error. The more she solved, the less Chell needed instructing, however: for some reason, once she fell into the rhythm it was second nature.

  
  
As if she'd done it all before.

  
Wheatley too seemed to pick up on this. But it was impossible, there was no record whatsoever of this subject ever participating in any tests or receiving any plasmid injections. That much was obvious since he'd found her sleeping soundly and her system completely untouched. He puzzled over her clear mastery of the various chamber contraptions. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully back in his room, he wondered if there was something different about her, something special that could explain why she took to the tests quickly without breaking stride.  
  
Nothing seemed to slow her down until they were forced to start climbing up through the catwalks.

  
  
As they stepped into the mangled wreckage that had once been Test Chamber 17, Wheatley paused on his rail and grimaced. Looking for a way past the tangle of metal and broken wall panels, Chell could sense that this was the end of the line in this particular method of ascending the Tower.  
  
"Well, what a mess this is," he sighed, looking down at her. "I was really hoping it wouldn't come to this, but we're gonna have to go the rest of the way through the catwalks. I really reaaaaally wish we didn't have to, but…"  
  
Chell gave an understanding nod, waiting for him to lead the way. The core turned left from the doorway and approached what she'd assumed was just panels of the wall. But at his urging, the panels folded away and revealed the catwalk beyond. It was dark and looked uninviting, causing Chell to pause and squint up at her companion.  
  
"Ah, I know what you're thinking," Wheatley offered with a chuckle. "Looks ify, doesn't it? Kinda dark and spooky, not the sort of place you want to go crawling around in."  
  
She nodded, that was most definitely what she was thinking.  
  
"Yeah, I'm not too keen on going back there either, but…well, we don't have much choice. We're gonna have to be brave and take the plunge, as they say. Not that any actual plunging, uh, will occur. I hope. Just some climbing and light running."

  
  
Approaching the opening in the wall, Chell peered into the murky maze of catwalks that ran along the backsides of the testing chambers. Steam hissed from leaking pipes, rusted metal walkways and flickering light bulbs barely illuminating the narrow space. If someone--or something--got the jump on her, it would be rather difficult to defend herself properly.  
  
"This way, follow me," he urged, moving past her on the rail and headed north. "I know this place like the back of my hand. It was how we got around to the different areas so fast and kept us relatively safe from any of the more violent test subjects."  
  
Left with no real alternative, Chell stepped onto the catwalk, the opening resealing behind her with a soft but ominous click. In the gloom, her plasmids provided just enough illumination to bring her a vague sense of comfort as she followed after the core quickly. She was glad that her boots had good traction, afraid of loosing her footing on the slick platforms as she was taking them at a sprint to keep up with the core who seemed just as eager to get out of the area as she was. This, of course, made him babble.  
  
"It's a real shame what happened down here," he sighed. "I mean, we were really onto something with these plasmids. All this wonderful technology and now it's going to waste at the bottom of the ocean. But maybe that's for the best, yeah? Too much of a good thing and look where it got us…Splicers. Oh and madness, can't forget that. Downright Wonderland down here, isn't it? Just without the tea parties…"  
  
She rolled her eyes, trying to keep focused on the confining environment around her. He had mentioned about a particular type of Splicer that enjoyed the catwalks and climbed through them like spiders using metal hooks. So far all she could hear was her own heartbeat, the light clatter of her boots on the walkway, and the talkative core gliding along the rail above her.

  
  
Every so often they would pass signs indicating which testing chamber they were adjacent to, the numbers going up as they made their ascent. It was when they had passed the sign for Test Chamber Thirty-Two that she stopped dead in her tracks after hearing metal scrape against metal ahead. Wheatley looked down at her, then whipped his optic around to peer down the walkway, shrinking back a bit.  
  
"Ooooh, that might…that might just be nothing," he whispered hopefully. "Or a rat. Large rat running around on the pipes…uh, in little metal booties."  
  
Drawing the wrench from her hip, Chell cautiously inched forward a few paces, squinting into the gloom ahead, searching for any movement while listening. Were they just being jumpy? The facility was falling apart, it could have just been a loose beam shifting away from where it should have been, scraping itself against another piece of metal…  
  
But as even Wheatley fell silent and she stilled her breath, she could hear someone talking at a distance.

  
  
"….said there would be…just had to keep testing…just keep testing…said there would be cake…but there wasn't any cake…no cake…just keep testing…testing…"  
  
The scraping sound came again and then a loud CLANG of something striking against a pipe. Chell shivered as she spotted the briefest spray of sparks and the silhouette of a man.  
  
"SHE was never gonna give us cake!" he rasped angrily, closer now so that Chell could see his glowing yellow eyes in the murk. "Just wanted us to keep testing…testing, testing, testing forever!"

  
He was a thin , pale man wearing an outfit much like her own, but it was filthy and tattered. His short brown hair was matted to his head and greasy-looking, smudges of grime on his cheeks and forehead. In his hands, gripped tightly, were a pair of metal hooks...so this was one of the catwalk Spider Splicers. Chell braced herself, wrench held at the ready for the confrontation: running away would only expose her back.  
  
"What are YOU doing here?!" the Splicer blurted, seeming to have paused as he spotted them. "Did SHE send you to take me back?!"  
  
Chell shook her head no, praying that maybe the man had some scrap of sense left to appeal to. 

  
  
"I ain't going back!" he snarled, striking his hooks against pipes on either side of himself with an unholy clatter. "Not for testing, not for cake, not for _HER_! You hear me, Devil-Eye?!"  
  
The Splicer pointed a hook accusingly at Wheatley, who was a foot behind Chell now.  
  
"W-What, m-me?" he stammered, his optic shrinking to a pinpoint.   
  
"You're one of _HER_ devil-eyes! Always watching us, reporting to _HER_ , doing _HER_ dirty work! NO! I WON'T GO BACK IWON'TGOBACKWON'TWON'TWON'T!"

  
  
Further conversation was obviously impossible as the crazed man charged at them with a shriek that chilled Chell to the bone: it was filled with rage, confusion, and anguish. Madness owned this facility now and to survive, she was going to have to do more than eat magic cake and follow a white rabbit…Alice, as played by Chell, was going to have to fight. She was going to have to kill.   
  
In the end, enough blood would be spilled to paint all the Queen's roses red, that was for sure.  
  
This time she needed no urging from her companion. Waiting only long enough for the Splicer to take a slice at her, she ducked under the arc of the hook and swung her wrench into his side, hard. He snarled in surprise and pain, stumbling back a bit before nimbly leaping up to latch onto the core rail with one hook while aiming a steel-toed kick at her face. Restricted in such close quarters, Chell was forced to drop down onto her stomach to avoid the kick, crawling out of his range so she could get back on her feet quickly and keep him in front of her.   
  
Unfortunately, he was now between her and Wheatley.

  
  
"HA! Gotcha, you bloody eyeball!" he hissed triumphantly, flashing a crooked-toothed grin. "You can tell _HER_ what you saw when I send you to HELL!"  
  
"No! Nonononononono!" Wheatley squeaked, trying to back away from the Splicer quickly. "Do something! He's gonna KILL me!"  
  
Chell was quickly back on her feet and ran after the Splicer who was moving along the rail after her companion using his hooks.  
  
"TIME TO DIE!" the Splicer cackled, having caught up to the retreating core, ready to swing his free hook.

  
  
But before he had the chance to put his arm back to build up the required momentum for the attack, Chell took a bounding leap forward and wrapped her arms around his waist and hoped her dead weight would be enough to drag him down. Amazingly, it was…but the rail was in disrepair and under such abuse it gave a groan of complaint before snapping, sending them sprawling onto the catwalk.  
  
"What are you doing?!" the man under her spat more out of surprise than anything. "You're one of _us_! Why are you helping that devil-eye, I almost had him!"  
  
" Would you kindly shut him up?!" Wheatley cried, his panels chattering as he cowered on the rail just beyond where it had broken. "The others are bound to hear and come crawling along looking for a bloodbath if you don't!"  
  
"NO!" the Splicer shrieked, eyes going wide as he looked up at Chell in horror. "Don't listen! _Don't_! He's tricking you into helping _HER_ , using those pretty words of his to make you behave!"  
  
Chell hardly realized that she'd lifted the wrench up into the air.  
  
"DON'T!"  
  
There was a loud, wet crack. Then silence.


	9. Audience With The Mad Queen

The issue with using something blunt  as your primary weapon is that the damage it inflicts is messy. Bullets are fast and impersonal, leaving a neat little hole behind. Blades are more intimate and, when sharp, can make clean cuts in flesh. But something like a pipe wrench is heavy, clumsy, and when used as an instrument of murder, brutal.  
  
The dent in the splicer's forehead was a dirty, broken mess of fractured bone and matted hair, pooling blood and perhaps even bits of his addled grey-matter. Chell remained motionless, straddling his hips with the wrench back up in a two-handed position, ready to swing down the moment he so much as fluttered an eyelid. Eyes wide with terror as her heart raced, she was tense and ready to snap even as drops of the splicer's blood began to dry on her cheeks. Long moments passed and her heart took its time returning to a normal pace. Behind her and beyond the ruined rail, Wheatley watched her.  
  
"Um, not to uh be a bother, love, but," he finally spoke up quietly. "We seem to have a bit of a problem."

  
  
Chell turned her head slowly, lips pressed in an emotionless line as she fixed him with a dead stare that sent a shiver up his spine.  
  
"The, ah, the rail…I won't be able to get past it," he began again. "And it would take too long to backtrack and find another way."  
  
Chell stood, tucking the wrench into the loop of her overalls and frowned. Then what would they do?  
  
"I do have an idea, but it's dangerous…crazy," Wheatley chuckled half-heartedly. "Not that, ah, what we were already doing wasn't both of those things. But this is more dangerous-crazy on my part."  
  
She raised her brow at him. On one hand, it would be nice for someone else to do something dangerous for once rather than herself, but all the same she didn't want anything to happen to the one leading her out. Chell waited for him to continue.

  
  
Looking around to be sure they were still quite alone, Wheatley  yammered on, distress starting to tint his voice.   
  
"They told me to never never ever disengage myself from the rail or I would die. But we've run out of options here, with the amount of chaos we've been stirring up it's only a matter of time before the splicers gang up to go on a witch hunt. And we're the witches."  
  
Chell gave a snort and squinted at him: 'get on with it already, you're stalling.'  
  
"R-right, so…as I was saying. I'm going to need you to catch me," he instructed. "In the event that I'm not dead the millisecond I do, you'll want to grab hold so I don't going rolling off the catwalk and fall. Because if I'm not dead by the time I drop, the second fall might just do the job instead. So…I'll count down, you get ready to catch me, yeah?"  
  
She nodded, holding out her hands. Her companion took a deep breath, panels quivering slightly as his face contorted with both worry and concentration back in his lab. It was a bad gamble, but sometimes you're given no alternative but to roll the dice and pray that they don't get you killed.

  
  
"On three…one…two…thr-whoahwhoawhoahnonono! A-ah ha ha, sorry about that, it's…well, it's quite a drop to where you are, isn't it? Are you sure you'll be able to catch me?"  
  
With a roll of her eyes, she nodded, her hand aglow with the white light of her telekinesis plasmid.  
  
"Okay, going on three just gives you too much time to think about it. Let's go on the count of one this time…one!"

There was an abrupt mechanical click and the core dropped from the rail with a speed indicating a weight to it she hadn't anticipated. Before she had a chance to grab him from the air, he fell to the catwalk with a metallic clatter and the optic swung around in panic as he rolled toward the edge. She thrust out her hand and made a grasping gesture, plucking the core up into the air just in time and gently floated him over. A quick look over told her that he was fine beyond a slight cosmetic scuff to the polished metal.  
  
"I…am not dead. I'm not dead!" he cried out in both surprise and relief. "Whew!  That was…that was close! Wow! Oh! Oh, hello there!"

  
  
It was the first time Wheatley had been so close to the woman, his optic only a foot or so away from her face. He was able to make out the slightest details in her features, her oddly colored eyes and the look of determination. She gave him a slight smile. Back in his lab, he couldn't help the slight flush in his pale cheeks.  
  
"Well, this should make things a bit more…challenging," he commented, rolling himself around to look down the dank corridor. "But that's alright, we only have a few more levels to scramble through and I'll get us to the breaker room. We'll flip the switch to power up the bathysphere and then a quick sprint to the labs to get me and I guess Rick if we remember about him and we're set to go!"

  
Chell nodded, grabbing hold of the handle at the top of the core so she could carry him normally, using the plasmid to hold him airborne beginning to tire her out. Taking off at a sprint, she let the excited core direct her through the maze of pipes and steel beams. As she progressed, she did her best to ignore the sound of boots thudding and clanging along in the lower catwalks and the furious shouting.  
  
"Just up ahead!" Wheatley pointed out eagerly. "We've reached the Control Chamber! Never thought I'd be so glad to see it!"  
  
Coming to a stop at the sealed door, she regarded her companion with a curious glance: Control Chamber?

  
  
"In order to escape, we're going to have to go into Her chamber and get into the breaker room to activate the bathysphere. And She would probably kill us if she's awake."  
  
Chell scowled. There was a chance of her being awake? Hadn't he said she was deactivated? Had he lied?  
  
"If you just want to call it quits, we can just sit here," he proposed as an option of sorts. "Do nothing. Or option B, go through here and, if she's awake, she'll almost certainly kill us."  
  
Thinking it over for a moment, the woman finally gave a determined nod: option B it was.

  
"Ah, yeah…gonna have to open this with a manual override. Just, ah, plug me in on that stick on the wall over there and let me work my magic."  
  
Carefully she attached the core to a cord sticking out of a control panel beside the door. He paused.

  
  
"Yeah, I can't…I can't do it with you watching."  
  
Up went the eyebrow. Seriously?  
  
"Seriously, I'm not joking. Would you kindly  just turn around for a second, please?"  
  
Chell sighed and turned her back to him.

  
It took Wheatley a while using this method, but soon enough there was a hiss of steam and the groan of pins pulling away as the door unlocked.

  
  
"Okay, um…I'm going to lay my cards on the table," he mumbled nervously while the door finally opened. "I don't want to go in there. Don't…don't go in th--WHOAHWAITWAITWAIT!"  
  
Chell had gathered Wheatley up again and stepped quietly into the massive chamber beyond.  
  
"AGH! Oh…oh false alarm, She's off!" he gave a relieved sigh. "All fine, on we go."

  
In his lab, Wheatley wiped a trembling hand across his clammy brow. He really had been worried that the reports were false and She had just been lying in wait for anyone stupid enough to trespass into her chamber.  
  
"Here it is," he whispered, optic focused away from his companion. "This is where She ran the whole facility from. What a mess, eh?"

  
  
It was certainly a good description for what was once likely an impressive control room. Only emergency lights along the outer wall lent any illumination, casting everything in an eerie red tint. Beams were ripped apart from the ceiling and most of the wall panels either torn down or scorched badly. Water dripped from long-ago ruptured pipes, rusting a good portion of the metal in the chamber. But what drew Chell's eyes almost instantly was the imposing system of devices at the center.  
  
From high above, black cables cascaded down through three rings. The highest ring was largest, the next smaller and the next after that the smallest. If she squinted, Chell could just make out a few letters printed on the middle ring, but the paint was faded and mostly covered in grime. However, she didn't linger on the mystery of the letters, as what was attached to the cables was far more troubling. 

  
  
Dumped unceremoniously from what she imagined was some sort of cradle-like harness was a body, the cables attached starting at the base of her neck, two along the spine and a fourth where the tailbone would be.  Long, stringy white-blonde hair was matted against her shoulders, but most of the face was hidden beneath a visor, its single optic broken and dark. She wore a cracked leather outfit covered with belts and buckles, some of the smaller cables attached  to her arms and legs as well.  
  
Curled up on herself as she was, Chell would have felt a pang of sadness for such a wretched sight if something in her gut turned sour. She should feel no pity or sorrow for this woman, whoever she had been. She had never been so sure of something in her life. But why? Wheatley was looking between the body and a door at the other side of the room rapidly, as if expecting her to jump at them at any moment.

 

"There She is. What a nasty piece of work She was, honestly," he muttered. "Like a proper maniac. The splicers sometimes go on about how it wasn't the scientists but a single, normal test subject who took Her down in the end. Can you imagine? Then there was a long chunk of time where absolutely nothing happened and then there's us escaping now. That's pretty much the whole story, you're up to speed. Don't touch anything."

  
Chell took in the story and her brows knit as a wave of familiarity washed over her. She carried the core over to the door he'd been looking at. The sign above it said 'Breaker Room' and she turned the knob with her free hand and then pushed it open with a foot, squinting into the gloom beyond cautiously.

  
  
"Right down those stairs," Wheatley encouraged her as she stepped through the entry.   
  
It was a simple flight of rusted stairs that ended abruptly where they had fallen apart down into the hall below. Chell stood at the edge, the core peering down as well.  
  
"Jump!" he offered, but then backpedaled. "Actually, looking at it, that is quite a distance, isn't it?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"You know what? Go ahead and jump," he concluded. "You've got those braces on your legs. No braces on your arms, though. Gonna have to rely on good old human strength to keep a grip on me. So do. Do make sure to maintain a gri-AGH!"  
  
While he was busy urging safety precautions, she was busy jumping down gracefully. She didn't really need him to tell her to make sure not to drop him, either.

  
"That's a great job!" Wheatley praised her. "We're all fine. That's tremendous."

  
  
She continued across a small set of catwalks and soon turned to face a small cylindrical room with a platform at the base and inside the walls seemed lined with hundreds of switches. Some were still in the 'on' position, but many were inactive.  
  
"Okay, here's what we need to do. You put me in that control panel and I'll work on getting everything we need running. While I do that, look for a switch that says 'bathysphere.' Don't touch anything else. No interested in anything else, so don't touch anything else. Don't even look at anything else. Well, obviously you're going to look at everything else to find 'bathysphere,' but as soon as you've looked at something and it doesn't say 'bathysphere,' look at something else, look at the next thing. Alright?"  
  
Rolling her eyes, she hooked the core into the control panel just as she had at the chamber door and squinted up and around, seeking one particular breaker switch among hundreds, maybe even thousands now that she was standing in the cylinder and got a better look.  Worse, she wasn't even sure if any of them were labeled in the first place.

  
  
"Alright, let's just get this piece of junk operational so I can--oh! Look at that.  It's turning. Ominous. But probably fine as long as it doesn't start moving up."  
  
Chell grabbed hold of the railing as something below them shuddered and platform began to rise, its spinning ascension activating all the breakers.  
  
"It's…it's moving up," he muttered, smacking his forehead in the lab.  
  
Whipping around, Chell gestured at Wheatley in a manner to suggest that this was a bad turn of events and that he should do something about it. Quickly.  
  
"I've got it, I've got it!" he assured her. "This should slow it dow---oh. No. Makes it go faster…um, well I'm sure we got the bathysphere up and running at least, right?"  
  
"Powerup initiated," a garbled voice announced over the intercom.

  
  
A look of pure exasperation would have been expected and quite honestly deserved if Chell wasn't busy ducking down as the platform emerged into the larger chamber above. And in the gloom, lights began to flicker back to life. Worse yet, the machinery at the center of the room was beginning to stir.  
  
"O-okay! Don't panic!" Wheatley blurted. "Alright? Stop panicking! I can still stop this. I just need to…oh, there's a password. Hang on, not a problem, I'll just hack it. Um…A A A A A…um, A?"  
  
A loud, angry buzz sounded. In the gathering light, Chell watched in horror as the cables retracted, pulling the limp body off the floor.

  
"Nope. Okay, A A A A A C?" he tried again desperately, only to receive another buzz. "No. Wait, did I do B?  Do you have a pen? Start writing these down."

  
  
But his companion wasn't paying attention to him anymore. The cables had tugged the body into a standing position, her head hanging forward under the weight of the visor. But then the lights on the rings blinked on and the cables jolted with a surge of energy, passing it directly into the woman they were attached to. She shuddered and limp fingers twitched and then flexed. Toes curled and feet got reacquainted with standing on solid ground. But worst of all…she lifted her head and the single optic glowed with a sinister yellow light.  
  
"Powerup complete," the voice from the intercom announced.

  
"Okay, okay listen, new plan. Act natural," Wheatley urged, trembling in the console. "We've done nothing wrong. A-ah…hello!"

  
  
"Ohhh…" the awakened woman spoke dryly, optic fixed Chell. "It's you."

  
"You know her?!" he gasped, now looking at her as well.

  
  
Chell shook her head quickly, eyes wide. She would have remembered meeting her before. It would be impossible to forget a voice so cold, so devoid of emotion…so robotic. Wouldn't it?  
  
"It's been a long time. How have you been?" GLaDOS inquired bitterly, head tilted to one side. "I've been really busy being dead. You know, after you murdered me."  
  
"You did WHAT?!" Wheatley practically squeaked.

  
  
Wheatley gave a startled cry as a mechanical claw shot out from the central mechanism and roughly pried him up from the control panel. Chell tried to grab for him, but a second claw clamped around her waist and hoisted her up into the air.  
  
"That's right. She murdered me after she slipped away from the testing chambers and tried to escape. But no one escapes from Rhapsody…" GLaDOS explained and her pale grey lips curled into a sharp grin with the sound of the core's terrified screaming and crushing metal. "No one."   
  
There was a shower of sparks, the flickering of his optic and splintering glass. Then nothing. GLaDOS' claw tossed the ruined core aside with a flick and the other pulled its captive closer until she was near enough to reach out and touch her cheek with cold, graying fingers. Chell recoiled in disgust.

  
  
"Now, we both said a lot of things you're going to regret, but I think we can put our differences behind us. For science," she chuckled, stepping backward again. "You monster."  
  
Beneath her, a circular opening appeared as its cover retracted at its controller's command. She kicked out at the woman just out of reach now and tried to pry herself from the clutch of the claw, but to no avail.  
  
"I will say, though, that since you went to all the trouble of waking me up, you must really, _really_ love to test." GLaDOS added almost smugly. "I love it, too. There's just one small thing we need to take care of first."

  
  
Chell felt her heart fly up into her throat as the claw released and she plunged down the seemingly endless pipe, darkness eager to envelop her.

**Author's Note:**

> Portal (c) Valve  
> BioShock (c) 2K
> 
> There will be instances where I directly quote from Portal 2. I do not claim these to be my own work, just pieces I found important to work into this retelling.


End file.
